


THE LAST EDGE

by fulcrumstardust



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A New Order of Exorcists, Alternative Wordlbuilding, Angst with a Happy Ending, Church of Jediism, Demon Kylo Ren, Earn Your Happy Ending, Exorcism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Human Rey (Star Wars), Immortality, Kylo is an exorcist with poor social skills, Light & Darkness, Lightsaber battles in Chicago, Master of the Knights of Ren, OTP You're Not Alone, Occult, Reincarnation, Religious Force, Rey is having a really bad day, Star-crossed, Suicide/Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-10-10 16:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20530727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fulcrumstardust/pseuds/fulcrumstardust
Summary: 《 Life is short. Unless it’s your seventeenth cycle of reincarnation. 》Kylo Ren might be the most powerful exorcist in service these days, and it has everything to do with the fact that he's a demon himself. Will it be enough to save his eternal lover from the Knights of Ren, the Church of Jediism, and Fate itself?He's got a bad feeling about this.





	1. The High Priestess

**Author's Note:**

> Right in time for the spooky season! 🎃 I wrote this story for the RFFA 2019 Amid Secrets and Monsters. 
> 
> An immense thank you to K8 @blessmycircuits who spent hours working on this story as my beta!!! ❤ Her expert eye was invaluable to me, as much as her feedbacks. She really took it to the next level for you to enjoy! Also thanks Briar and Viv for the final corrections! 🥰
> 
> Here's a [PLAYLIST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-FGF8MF978&list=PL7Yv9Q3pmIIYvaO0hzZ2Fg1SibhhCrBwJ) for you. Hope you enjoy guys! xx

_“But the stars that marked our starting fall away. _

_ We must go deeper into greater pain, for it is not permitted that we stay.” _

— Dante Alighieri. (The Inferno, Canto VII)

  
✚

✚

✚

**CHAPTER ONE**

> The High Priestess (II)
> 
> _ Secrets and hidden circumstances stand in the way and need to be understood. _
> 
> _ Archetype: Secret (hidden influence). _

Life is short.

Unless it’s your seventeenth cycle of reincarnation.

For Kylo Ren, life had ceased to be a linear timeline of existence centuries ago. Time was just another song in the back of his mind, silently humming along with the flow of events as the ghost of his soul marched among the living over and over again. Life and death were nothing more than an infinite circle of failures and rebirths, sunrises and sunsets over his boundless journey—a new hope, a new punishment, and the promise of a never-ending nightmare.

Kylo Ren had lived sixteen lives since his first _ end— _since his demonic soul was exiled from the very heart of Darkness, banished by his own kind—and yet, he still hadn't found redemption for his many sins. It was a sentence far more cruel than its crime, brought on by the most human weakness of all: love.

He had seen numerous countries, witnessed countless wars and all humanity’s great triumphs, walked many different paths, taken many different names. Through all of those mirages, Kylo Ren learned that if you came to live long enough, you’d only see the same eyes in different people.

Nothing new erupted from the ashes of his previous lives, and all the wonders of this mortal world were tasteless to the old soul he had grown into since the genesis of all his existences. In the midst of his journey, he was looking for only one beacon of light, lifetime after lifetime, relentlessly, tirelessly.

He was looking to rejoin _ her _.

With every new breath he took, every death of a star across eternal galaxies, Kylo Ren was looking for the one soul who could pull him from the hellfire he was burning in. And he wouldn’t stop until their hands were joined once more in the stellar night.

There was no Hell in death. He had _ seen _ Death, and he knew what was awaiting on the Other Side. Darkness and Light, an everlasting game of influence between two greedy gods—a cruel joke.

He was a Dark One, she was a Light Spirit, and Hell was only in the hearts of the living. Hell was _ here _, when he was unable to redeem himself, when his deeds were not good enough to grant him fucking absolution, when he had to waste yet another existence without her, lonely, broken, bitter, and haunted.

But this time around, something else was in the making, something different—he could feel it. Demons were talking to him, whispering, lurking, plotting. This time could be the right time, the right song silently playing on his bleeding strings. This time, Kylo Ren could be absolved from being born on the wrong side of the Balance and be reunited with Kira.

This time he was going to break the hourglass of their misery, forevermore.

_ Darkness rises and Light to meet it. For when they merge, the stars stop shining and chaos is birthed anew from their Death. _

✚

The call was in the late afternoon, which could only mean one thing: they were desperate.

Kylo already knew what he would walk into that day, as the last traces of daylight were already departing from the cold, dead, mid-September sky over Chicago. Drops of rain crashed into the tinted windows of his car when he stopped at the address he was sent to. He didn’t linger very long, only pausing briefly to make sure no one else was within his perimeter. The block was clear—as clear as it could be of the demons lurking around the city’s downtown.

Exiting the vehicle, Kylo buttoned up his black blazer with a familiar, mechanical motion. Fashion had taken some turns along the stream of time, but black was always the common thread of his appearance. It was quiet, solid, comforting—and in any case, blood didn’t leave stains on black fabric. In his profession, that was an explicit requirement for any garment of choice.

Freelancing exorcisms was rarely a calm circle of prayers. It was a battle—the original one. And so late in the day, Kylo was to face dangerous odds. It meant all the childish attempts performed by the priest who had finally called him, caving in despite pride, had failed. This wasn’t the first time and it would certainly not be the last. _ Fucking charlatans. _

Of everything Kylo had seen rise and fall over the past centuries, one remained a constant companion for his reincarnated memory. A man-made faith, a belief almost as old and as solid as the first emergence of the Balance. It had taken many forms and many names during the ages. Kylo had seen it flourish all over the world, guiding the hand of mankind like a holy prayer, and a damn persistent one.

Then, they were called the Temple of the Jedi Order; now they had gathered under the Church of Jediism. They were the followers of the Force, the defenders of all that was good and mighty—but in all their supposed _ goodness, _they couldn’t seem to find the grace to forgive his own sins.

A crude irony of Kylo’s fate. Wasn’t clemency a virtue of their religion?

So many people were eager to preach to him, but so few of them could actually bear the sight of the world without the blindfold of their beliefs. Even among the most skilled of their priests, their reluctance to call on him was still rampant. They would ignore Kylo’s presence because it’d tear apart their religious screen of smoke to acknowledge the unnatural, the one piece that wouldn’t fit anywhere.

No matter where he went, no one had ever heard of a Dark One hunting his own kind. That’s what made him so effective at the task, and that’s why they called on him when they were powerless in the face of the enemy.

The Church might’ve hated Kylo Ren, but using him was clearly not crossing any lines for them. And so, he diligently played his part, night after night, until nights turned to years, and years blurred into whole lifetimes of an endless war.

It was a dangerous game, for he was nothing more than a tool waiting to be discarded. It already happened in the past: the betrayals, the backstabbing, the trials—like a bloody witch-hunt to advance someone’s agenda onto the next stepping stone.

Kylo was an asset, but he wasn’t an idiot and he’d had an eternity to study all of human nature and its delightful subtleties—the untold truths, the unspoken words. Yet he still played along with them, because they had something more precious than all of his cold-hearted pride.

_This is the only way _, he often remembered—the only way he could ever hope to be redeemed. It was the only path he had left to follow if he ever intended to see her again, to be allowed to cross into the Light and join her.

Everything he did, it was all for Kira. _ Always _.

The street was silent, ethereal, like a painting waiting to be finished under the brush of its artist. The calm before the storm. When he passed through the door of the two-story building, leaving a trail of raindrops in his footsteps, Kylo registered the kiss of cold air brushing over his wet skin. It wasn’t a pleasant one—it was empty of life, empty of _ everything. _

The Dark Side didn’t burn with hellfire but instead was engulfed under an abyss of frozen black holes, a land without horizon and without hope. Demons were cold, and they feasted on the warmth of human bodies, eagerly devouring their fears and their anguish.

Making his way up to the second floor through an old stairwell, Kylo mindlessly replaced a necklace under the soft fabric of his black shirt—a piece of jewelry he’d had to dig countless times from the dirt of his many graves because he wasn’t willing to let it go.

Inside the building, not a single neighbor checked on the unusual noises coming from the apartment across the narrow hallway. All doors were closed, except the one leading to the Other Side. For a brief moment, Kylo contemplated the empty corridor with a puzzling sensation crawling up the back of his neck. It would be an interesting evening.

Someone opened the door for him before he could knock.

Kylo stepped inside, looking over his surroundings inquisitively with a calculated gaze. The place was tidy, minimally furnished, a little outdated. It belonged to a middle-class family; the furniture was not completely coordinated but still arranged with a certain sense of sophistication. The entrance walls displayed framed pictures of a family—mother, father, a single child. The child was growing up from one photograph to another and the smiles became less frequent and more fake as an increasing distance became more evident. A family drama. Stopping in front of a ten-year-old version of a small human, Kylo took another look into the expressive eyes printed on the frozen glossy surface.

“Ren,” a man said to him with a warm voice.

After a few more seconds of contemplation, Kylo turned to greet him, detailing the priest’s appearance in the dim daylight peeking through heavy curtains.

“Father,” he said with just a note of cynicism coloring his inflection.

The priest extended a hand to him, which Kylo decided to shake purely out of self-interest. He knew the man. Dameron wasn’t the worst of his options. Under dark curls of black hair, the tired face and bloodshot eyes of his interlocutor told a story of their own to Kylo.

“Is it the boy?” Kylo simply asked.

“Yes.”

The priest looked almost pained at the confession. Working with children often took a toll on people, for some reason. Dameron was easy enough to read. The dark brown cloak of his order rested on his shoulders like the weight of a hundred souls and he tugged at his collar, seeking to breathe more easily. The air was thicker, almost solid, clogging the whole room with a dense atmosphere.

“I should’ve called sooner,” Dameron told him with a regretful sigh.

At least the man was able to admit it—that was one of the things Kylo could like about him.

“Looks like it.”

“I thought I could do it,” the priest confessed with a complex expression. “But this one… I don’t know.”

“Let me see. Bedroom?”

Dameron nodded his head in confirmation, leading the exorcist over to a closed door. From an adjacent room, Kylo could hear strained voices discussing their concerns, presumably the parents. Dameron hadn’t come to visit alone, but the prayers of his junior apprentice were better saved for the appeasement of the adults than for Kylo’s mission.

Upon entering the child’s bedroom, a peculiar smell wafted around him to welcome the exorcist like a final warning, urging him to turn around and to seek safety away from the perilous lands into which he was now marching. Kylo took another step closer, leaving Dameron behind him to watch in silence.

The massive frame of the man bowed down over the twin bed, covered by a green duvet depicting friendly dinosaur cartoons. A child was secured to it, his wrists and ankles tied to the metal frame with strips of fabric. It was a gut-wrenching display, and the lack of light didn’t distract Kylo from the distorted features of the juvenile face, grotesquely contorted by rage and deprivation.

There was no doubt possible.

The skin was almost translucent, turning into an ashen color, blood vessels creating a disorganized pattern under it like bolts of lightning. Despite the freezing temperature in the room, strands of blond hair stuck to the boy’s face like in the middle of a feverish nightmare. The most indisputable sign of all was the eyes, entirely dilated and opened like a jet black pit of despair, empty, void of emotions or consciousness.

Each time Kylo looked into the eyes of the possessed, demons looked back at him. _ You see them, they see you. _

“Did you try holy water?” Kylo casually asked, still scanning the creature carefully.

“What do you think?” Dameron snarled in a higher pitch than usual. “I don’t need you here to light some fucking candles.”

“What, do you have some?” Kylo asked with genuine interest.

“It won’t help you. I’m telling you, this is… something else. Stronger. I couldn’t even pass Pretense. I have no names.”

“Alright.”

Kylo unbuttoned his blazer to free his movements, trailing a hand to his chest to brush over the contours of the medaillon. When he stood up, the child rapidly turned his head to him, acknowledging his presence for the first time since he entered the room. For now, everything was still silent, but the battle was about to begin.

“_ Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Fortitudo _ ,” Kylo said in a deep chested voice, raising a hand in front of him, palm open. “ _ Per eumdem Spiritus Sancti nostrum, qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos, et saeculum per ignem. _”

He wet the tips of his fingers against his mouth and touched the ears of the young boy, and then his nostrils, in a quick succession of assertive movements. The same ritual he had performed over and over again through all his mortal lives. Before he had the chance to speak anything else, the feral reaction of the child overwrote the confused silence and plunged the room into chaos.

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before though, and Kylo didn’t pause his litany, unimpressed. The words spoke for themselves, drawing on something strong and self-reliant. It was a weapon, it was the weight of his soul, hanging in the balance beyond two worlds—the power of knowledge and the chaos of a demon.

Kylo touched the right ear again, and then the left.

“_ Ephpheta, quod est, Adaperire! _”

The small body attached to the bed started to shake, trying to escape the touch of the exorcist. He was hunted by the words, pinned down under a new light of scrutiny—and he hated it. He grunted, turned, hissed. Kylo’s presence enraged him, and he fought to free himself from the sound of his voice.

“_ In odorem suavitatis. Tu autem effugare, serpens. _”

Behind him, Kylo sensed Father Dameron faltering under the demonic presence that was overpowering all of their senses without logic. The dark was darker, the time had stopped, as though alienated from the rest of the world, cast out like a shameful secret. No godly spirit was willing to witness the demise of their children, and they had all abandoned ship long ago. Kylo had not. He closed his fist around a small kyber crystal in the right pocket of his tailored jacket, gauging the demon’s response through it.

Something was off. A laugh crawled under his skin. Cold. Grim. Dark.

Kylo frowned. He shouldn’t have met resistance here, and he was starting to understand what Dameron meant earlier._ Something else _.

“On whose authority?” Guttural voices erupted from the throat of the ten-year-old like a choir, defying any remaining logic. “Who, who, who, _ who _?”

“On mine,” Kylo firmly answered.

“_ You _? Aaah―,” they growled. “You’re no priest! You can’t speak for the Force! We don’t obey you.”

“I don’t need the Force,” he snorted. “For I―am a Knight of Ren and I command you, as your _ Master _, to tell me your fucking names, assholes.”

✚

“I told you,” Dameron said, a flash of terror crossing his eyes ever so briefly.

Kylo looked at him, unable to concentrate on the priest all at once. His mind was racing in many different directions, seeking answers from the experiences of a hundred men. He curled his fist into a ball before relaxing his muscles, his back resting on the brick wall of the old apartment complex. The rain had ceased sometime during the past two hours. When they stepped outside, the two men were met by nothing but a light drizzle and dark puddles on the asphalt paving the streets.

“Yeah, you told me,” Kylo slowly said.

Next to him, the priest flicked the hood of his cloak up over his head, partially masking his face, as if he wanted to retreat from the world to heal himself after what they had just seen. The glistening red halo of his cigarette reflected in his eyes for a few seconds while he drew a puff from it.

“It was not normal,” Dameron insisted, his foot nervously tapping on the ground.

“Finding a demon on this side? Yeah, no shit, Father,” Kylo smirked with burning sarcasm.

“Don’t bullshit me, Ren.” He gestured a hand at him. “I _ know _what I saw. Even―for you. It shouldn’t have been so difficult. Why?”

“Are you asking me now?” Kylo crossed his arms, evading a real answer.

“In my life I’ve never seen such a powerful grip on a child,” the priest said. “Never. It doesn’t make any sense. Where are the doorways?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Dameron said, frowning in concentration. “You’ve noticed too, I know it.”

“Yeah, well―gotta go.”

It was an abrupt way to end the conversation, but the other man didn’t seem to take offense to it. He pressed his lips together, lowering his cigarette to his side, and nodded in silence. He was used to working with Kylo and knew better than to try to pry answers out of him. Dameron wasn’t a belligerent man but he was still of the Church, and that alone was enough to stop them from ever truly being on the same side.

Kylo didn’t trust anyone but himself. Nonetheless, he received the priest’s blessing without protesting.

“_ Pax tibi, et Fortitudo sit tecum. _”

“And with you,” the exorcist answered with a blank voice.

✚

“Demon.”

“Witch,” Kylo replied with the same inflection.

The woman stood in front of him, her small arms clasped around a silky nightgown, none too pleased to find a strange man at her door in the middle of the night. She gave him an aggressive look, squinting in the darkness of an antique hallway somewhere in one of Chicago's more rundown neighborhoods.

“I need you to do a reading,” he told her dryly.

Kaydie rolled her eyes at him, brushing a hand into her pale blond hair nervously. “It’s two in the fucking morning, Ren, for Force’s sake.”

“Don’t pretend like you sleep or something.”

“I could try.”

“It’s _ urgent _,” he growled with an impatient tone.

They exchanged a quick glance of frustration before the woman finally sighed, defeated, and stepped aside to grant him access to her place.

“Fine, asshole.”

Kylo almost smiled. He was used to paying visits to the witch and she always proved to be somewhat helpful. She was skilled in the art of the Occult—as the Church would call it these days—and a very useful tool for someone dealing with demonic problems as often as he did. She was also quite cynical, which was probably a prerequisite for working with someone like the exorcist.

“What’s so urgent?” Kaydie asked sarcastically, walking into her living room.

Kylo followed her with long strides and paused while she turned on a small lamp on the countertop of the open kitchen. The lingering scent of burning sage caught his nose, mixed with a more floral note. Wooden shelves covered the walls, displaying an endless collection of books and strange artifacts. A series of glass jars had caught the man’s attention during one of his prior visits, but it was too dark to tell if she had already made use of the rare-colored set of kyber crystals she owned.

“I did an exorcism on a boy earlier.”

“Congrats,” Kaydie snorted, taking a seat in one of two large green velvet armchairs.

“It wasn’t―normal,” Kylo insisted with a dark voice.

Following her example, he sat across from her, his back straight with a rigid posture. From the small glow illuminating the room, he carefully watched as Kaydie reached out for a dark fabric pouch tied-up with a gold ribbon.

“I’m gonna need a definition of ‘normal’, Exorcist.”

This time, Kylo gave her a smirk, trying to decide if he was annoyed with her or not. “They were powerful.”

“They?”

“Yes. There is never just one of them.”

“So, a gang of demons?” she asked, unphased, almost derisive.

“If you want to call it that,” Kylo dismissed. “They shouldn’t have been after that child, something else must have drawn them here.”

“And you want me to tell you what.”

“Yes.”

“You know how it works, right? If I see them… they see me.”

“Remember that time I helped you get rid of that ghost?”

The witch stopped to glare at him, most likely to say she wasn’t very fond of his rude behavior. She rested a set of old cards on her lap, the gilded edges catching the weak reflection of the lamp.

“_ Fine _,” she told him. “You have an anchor?”

Kylo didn’t come empty-handed. He reached inside the pocket of his blazer and presented her with a small white handkerchief. Carefully tucked inside of it was a single strand of dark blond hair. Kaydie extended a hand to take it between two fingers. She looked at it in a glassy haze for a few seconds, leaving Kylo to wonder what exactly was going through her mind.

Although he had witnessed the legitimacy of her powers, he couldn’t pretend to know how the damn things worked. Nor was he particularly interested in finding out.

Securing the strand of hair in the palm of her hand, the witch began to gather her cards. She shuffled them for a few minutes, leaving the clock on the wall to ponder over the stretching silence. Kylo watched her proceed with mild interest.

The dexterity of her skilled hands was somewhat hypnotizing. She didn’t let a single card fall from her grip, until she finally stopped and cut the deck in half. It was a strange motion—as if time had suddenly lost a bit of coherence.

She drew the first card from her pile, and then another, and for a brief moment that inexplicably felt like a whole eternity trapped inside the safety of the witch’s living room, she just stared at it. Were he human, Kylo probably wouldn’t have recalled any of it.

Because he was a demon though, he sensed the strange and unfamiliar presence floating among them. _ Something _was here with them. Something he could neither see nor explain, but he knew it was coming from the Other Side.

Patiently waiting, he clasped his long fingers around the small kyber crystal in his right pocket. It was still warm from his previous encounter, slowly pulsing in his palm.

“They’re really―really angry, Ren.”

Kaydie’s voice broke his contemplation. There was exhaustion in her speech—she sounded like she had just run a marathon.

“Did you find something?” he asked, a bit too eagerly for his own liking.

“The boy, does he have a sister?”

“No, why?” Kylo frowned.

“That’s weird,” the witch said, still catching her breath. “You’re right about him. They latched onto him by proximity. There was a woman, someone named _ Rey _. She was with him a lot but I didn’t get to see much. Just―her.”

“I’ll ask the priest about that, maybe he knows. Anything else?”

“Do you still have the dark water I gave you last time?”

“Yes, why?”

“I suggest you keep it close, you’re gonna need it.” She gave him a sad smile, almost sympathetic. “They’re very much trying to kill you.”


	2. The Fool

**CHAPTER TWO**

> The Fool (XXII)
> 
> _ Blissful carelessness, the power of ignorance. _
> 
> _ Archetype: Innocence (carefree ignorance). _

Rey paused in front of the old edifice, taking in the full sight of the city’s most imposing church, recently renovated for a substantial amount of money. The original temple dated from the sixteenth century, built from hand-carved stone and displaying various gothic-style gargoyles. The overall result had always seemed a bit overdramatic to her. She wondered if the whole point was to deter people instead of persuading them to enter the sacred ground.

Religion sure had a funny way of drawing people in. She would know all about that, since she was pursuing a Masters degree in Anthropology and Sociology of Religion. 

Rey loved to study the numerous myths and dogmas upon which the most influential cult in history was erected. It was a never-ending source of fascination and interest to her, and something she approached with the eyes of a true scientist.

“Miss Adhara?”

Surprised out of her contemplation, Rey turned around to meet the person speaking to her.

“Yes?” she politely answered, eyeing a tall man with short copper hair and a clean-shaven face.

Over his slim body he wore a long brown cloak, that almost brushed the damp stones on the temple’s parvis. Under it, a simple black robe with a standing collar was enough to distinguish him among a crowd. The priest extended a hand to her, offering a friendly smile.

“You’re just in time,” he told her. “I was supposed to greet you inside, but you beat me to it. I’m Father Hux.”

“Oh, nice to meet you, Father.”

“If you’d like to come with me?”

Nodding at him, Rey withdrew her hand and followed behind him. The weight of her leather backpack tugged on her left shoulder and she pulled it up while entering the church. Inside, the air was cold and smelled somewhat stale. Candles were already burning on display near the sidewalls, despite it being so early in the morning, but no one else seemed to be inside the main building. 

Rey took an inquisitive look over the ceremonial area, a dome embellished by crimson stained glass positioned directly above it. The rising sun pierced through it, conjuring a red glare over the circle of seats.

“Please, right this way.”

Father Hux seemed a likable enough person. They left the main room and walked into a bright office somewhere down a private hallway at the back of the building. Rey took the liberty of setting her bag down before unbuttoning her winter jacket, her cold cheeks still stinging from the temperature outside.

“Master Skywalker should join us soon, after he’s done with the morning prayers.”

“I’m sorry about the timing,” Rey said with an apologetic smile. “It was the only moment I had free. I’m pretty busy with the whole thesis thing, and I’m also running behind in my writing schedule.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Adhara.”

“Rey, please.”

“_ Rey _,” the man corrected. “May I ask the subject of your thesis?”

“Sure. I’m working on the place of asceticism in modern religions.”

While talking, the young woman reached for her bag, retrieving a small notebook and pen from her belongings. She flipped through the pages, scanning her familiar writing to get back to the series of questions she had written down earlier in anticipation of the interview.

“That’s―a very interesting subject.”

“Yes, I thought so too,” she said without looking up. “Especially regarding Jediism.” 

“Are you a member of our Church yourself?”

This time, Rey focused her attention on the priest, a finger lodged in the middle of her notebook to mark the page. “I am not,” she answered truthfully. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

Father Hux smiled at her, leaning over the edge of the enormous mahogany desk behind him. His expression seemed genuine to Rey. “No, I’m just curious to know what got you interested in the subject in the first place.”

“I’m interested in human nature, Father.”

“Surely there are a lot of other topics you could’ve chosen to explore. Why this one in particular?” He crossed his hands in front of him and Rey noticed the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled under scrutiny. 

“I find the duality quite fascinating.” Assessing the attentive silence, Rey took the invitation to continue her answer in further detail. “That constant opposition between a practice that voluntarily sets aside those who succeed in denying themselves, and the aim of paring back excessive individuality.”

“Those notions aren’t always mutually exclusive,” Father Hux said in a patient tone. “It all falls into the Balance, as everything else in life.”

“One could argue otherwise,” Rey smiled. “_ There is no emotion, there is peace _, isn’t it? In a world of instant gratification, I wonder how your faith promotes communitarianism without indulging in human intimacy.”

“Great questions. I’m sure Master Skywalker will be more eloquent than me on the subject,” he laughed.

“Well, I’m glad he agreed to meet with me. I hope I don’t come across as rude, I’m just trying to be as neutral as one can be.”

“Objectivity is always in the eye of the beholder.” 

“That’s―very true.”

“Maybe Master Skywalker will give you some food for thought.”

“I’m afraid I’m too much of an atheist for you,” Rey smirked.

“Don’t you have other beliefs? You don’t need the Church to feel the Force, anyone can communicate with It.” 

“You’re wasting your time on me, Father,” she said, shaking her head. “There is no Force talking to me. I don’t think good and evil are anything stellar or godly, they’re very much human.”

Suddenly, this conversation was getting way too personal for her liking.

“Humans are truly capable of terrible things, Rey.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, puzzled by the weight of his voice. “I think I’m a bit too old to believe in demons.”

“I’m not here to try to convince you of anything,” the priest told her. “But you should be careful with those thoughts. Evil _ does _believe in human weakness.”

✚

By the time she set foot outside the church, a light rain had started to silently fall upon the city again. Rey frowned at the unpleasant prospect of heading out in this weather. She had half an hour to grab a coffee and probably something to eat along the way, before she had to meet her friends for a study session. 

The Harold Washington Library was located in The Loop, and she needed to catch a ride to get there. Zipping her coat up to her chin, Rey eyed the rainy street, bracing herself for a quick run to the next L station. Before she could proceed, she stopped dead in her tracks under the protective architecture of the church’s parvis.

A few feet away from her, lodged between two stone pillars, someone was motionlessly staring at her. A man, dressed in black from head to toe.

Against any rational thought, the first thing Rey noticed about him was not his above-average size or the wet jet-black hair sticking to his pale face. The first thing she noticed about the complete stranger was his gaze—dark, intense, _ pulling— _and locked onto her with an impenetrable expression.

A shiver ran down the back of her neck and spread along her spine. Suddenly, the cold air around her didn’t have any effect on her anymore, but something else _ did _. She stayed pinned in place, like a deer in headlights, while a disturbing sensation burst in her chest without her comprehending what it was. It was hammering, warm, and violent. Panicked by the overwhelming sensation, she parted her lips, trying to get some air past the lump forming in her throat. 

She wasn’t prone to anxiety, and she didn’t understand the visceral reaction her body was imposing on her. She was taken aback by the assault of a million thoughts, without being able to focus on a single one in the midst of her confusion. All color drained from her face. Soon, her face started to burn—not from the cold, but from the rush of uneasiness pulsing through her veins. Or was it unease? She couldn’t possibly name the feeling, let alone understand it. 

That man wasn’t menacing her, he wasn’t even _ talking _ to her. He was just there, minding his own business, and had happened to look at her from afar. But _ damn _, did he look at her.

His fixed stare burned deep under her skin, shredding her to pieces, and she was seconds away from trying to tear her jacket off—trying to dissolve the _ need _she saw reflected in his eyes. Why did it feel so compelling? Why did she not walk away? Rey studied his face like she was trying to read old music sheets, buried under a layer of dust.

He was not the type of man she was attracted to. 

He was too tall, too dark, too _ unsafe _ . His facial features were complicated, an odd mixture of softness and hardship that didn’t seem to blend together, yet did so perfectly. A long scar ran down the side of his face, red and menacing. _ Unsafe _ . His brows were low on his forehead, frozen in a perpetual frown that made him appear much older than he probably was, judging by the texture of his skin. Rey tore her attention from his lips just to drown once more in a pair of dark eyes. _ Unsafe _.

He wasn’t the type of man she felt confident around, but it only made him more handsome. There was a spark of intention in his gaze, a conflict in him. She didn’t understand the nature of it but she recognized it nonetheless. He was unlike anyone she had ever seen, yet she felt like she had been looking for him in every person she had ever met. Seeking for that pair of burning eyes to _ see _her, to find her. 

Rey almost shuddered.

Finally, she forced herself into action, tearing her attention from the man at an agonizingly slow pace. The second her body turned to face the drenched street, she felt like she had just spent ten years of her life in that nerve-burning exchange. And she wanted nothing more than to look at the stranger again. 

✚

“Come on, you owe me another one of those―whatever fancy stuff we’ve been drinking.”

Rey snorted at her friend from across the bar table, her fingers absent-mindedly tracing the contours of the glass. The Rocking Horse—with its distinctive black walls and leather benches—was busy and pulsing with the noise of a dense crowd, as it did every Thursday night. Situated on North Milwaukee Avenue in Logan Square, it was a usual rendezvous spot for young people and overworked students desperate for a moment of relief.

Rey was a regular, going back to her freshman year of college. What little extra money she’d had was spent on cheap beer and nachos, back when she was still living in a dorm room with Tallie and Rose. That had been five years ago, and she had moved out to a single-room apartment in the neighborhood earlier this year, but Rey and her friends still enjoyed their routine with the same enthusiasm. 

“I don’t owe you anything,” Rey laughed. “Actually, _ you _owe me money for that damn text you never sent.” 

“What?” Rose exclaimed, her voice a little higher than normal. “No, no, no. Guys, I told you, I lost his number.”

“You’re full of shit, Tico.” Next to Rey, her other friend jumped in with a sarcastic smile. Tallie brushed a hand through her blond hair, pulling it back while she leaned over the table with one elbow.

“Shut up. We’re not talking about me,” Rose grumbled. 

It was actually true. During the previous hour, Rey had tried to distract her two friends from their on-going scheme with little success. Several years ago, the three of them had established a game of their own on their nights out. It was simple and pretty straightforward. Each time it was their turn, the other two would pick a person for them to engage with. It could be a friendly introduction or a more flirty one, depending on the level of attraction. If they didn’t want to do it, they could pass on the offer but they had to pay the tab at the end of the night. Tonight it was Rey’s turn, and she was already pretty broke this month.

“I’m feeling…” Rose trailed off, a pink plastic straw bobbing up and down in front of her. “What about that one?”

Rey followed her gaze, turning around to have a quick look at the potential victim. Her friend was pointing at a sporty-looking man, short brown hair, tan skin, engaging smile. He was for sure nice to look at, but her mind wasn’t really in the game tonight. 

She could simply walk up to him, offer a greeting and explain it was a bet, playing it off just for Rose to let her off the hook. That was what she did most of the time anyways. But on second thought, Rey started to find him more appealing, maybe in the way his eyes lit up while laughing. Or maybe the third Blue Hawaiian was starting to go to her head.

Tallie, on the other hand, didn’t seem too impressed. “He’s boring,” she complained, shaking her head.

“Yeah, well,” Rose objected, half-offended. “Your type has black hair, tattoos and a vagina, so of course he’s boring to you!”

“C’mon, don’t pull that card on me. I can still appreciate men, as… an overall aesthetic? This one isn’t doing anything for Rey. Right?”

“I mean―he’s cute,” she shrugged. 

“Ugh, what’s with you ladies and your tastes,” Tallie sighed. 

“We can’t all like the walking trouble type,” Rose told her friend dryly.

“Fine, get the safe boy.”

Snapping out of her haze, Rey almost knocked her drink over with a nervous hand. She had been trying so _ hard _ for the past few hours to obliterate a particular encounter from her mind, but something in what her friend said blew that door open once more. She was restless and not even closer to understanding it. She hadn’t talked about it with her friends either, almost as if she was ashamed of her own thoughts. _ Fucking ridiculous _. 

Rey drank the last sip of her cocktail in one gulp and slammed it down, earning a curious look from the petite brunette. “I’m going to say hi.”

“Oh oh!” Rose exclaimed, slapping her hands together. “Perfect.”

“Well, have fun?” Tallie added with a raised eyebrow. 

“I will. See ya, fam.”

“Good luck, bro. But remember to turn on tracking on the app if you go anywhere with him.”

“I’m not feeling anything beyond first base tonight.”

“Yeah but Rose’s right. Better safe than sorry.” 

“I know you two would come running to rescue me from a serial killer,” Rey said with a little wink.

As she turned around, she heard the last of Rose’s voice with just an ounce of sarcasm in it. “You’ll never know when an axe will come in handy.”

The best part of it was probably the fact that Rose actually had an axe in the trunk of her car, even if she never really discussed the exact cases that were being covered by this ‘just in case’ item. It did make for some interesting discussions around the table, though. Besides, after living in Chicago her whole life, Rey knew that nothing could truly surprise her around here.

Her boldness enhanced by the little flush of alcohol in her system, she neared the nice guy way more rapidly than she had anticipated. He sat at the bar with a friend of his, and she heard him laugh upon entering his personal space. Rey paused, a little unsure of the direction her mind was trying to take her in.

“Hi,” she smiled with her natural easy-going attitude.

“Hey,” the guy replied, seemingly surprised.

“I’m Rey.” 

“Oh, hmm―Nick. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. So, I hope this isn’t too awkward or anything, but I have a thing with my friends over there,” she gestured in the direction of Rose and Tallie. “And basically, I had a bet against me to come and talk to you. But if you don’t feel like it, that’s cool.” 

“Oh no, no problem!” Nick told her hurriedly. “I mean, do you want a drink or something?”

“I guess I already had my share tonight,” she chuckled, a flush on her cheeks.

“Water maybe? To cool you down,” the man joked.

“Water would be nice.” 

“Sure thing.” 

Rey took the opportunity to check him out a little more while he tried to get ahold of the barman. It wasn’t easy to do so under the dim lights of the establishment, but she noticed a sharp jawline and a black earring. Definitely nice to look at.

“Here you go, princess.”

Alright, she could have done without the nickname. 

Rey opened up her bottle and raised it to her lips, leaving a trace of red lipstick on the plastic. Chatting with someone wasn’t easy over all the background noise, but they managed to exchange some pleasantries and some more smiles. Nick’s friend took his cue to leave pretty rapidly, like the good wingman he was.

“So, you wanna go grab a smoke outside?”

“I don’t smoke,” Rey told her new friend. “But I can keep you company.”

He nodded at her and they started to make their way to the exit of the bar. Her jacket in the crook of her arm, Rey felt a hand pressed to her back guiding her towards the door. 

The night was cold and damp, but the rain had thankfully stopped. Some people were standing in front of the busy bar, huddled together in small groups, smoking and talking in the quiet air. The sounds of the night welcomed them on the sidewalk - horns, distant voices, and the elevated trains a few blocks down the street.

They both crossed the street and stepped into an alleyway to get some cover from the chilly wind lashing the avenue. Between two heavy red brick walls, Nick searched his pockets for a pack of cigarettes while Rey put on her brown jacket, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. 

In the silence, the tension was becoming a little uncomfortable. Rey bounced on her feet, trying to come up with another subject of conversation. Even though she was a people person, Rey wasn’t really good at small talk, but it was hard to make new connections without the initial awkward introductory part.

“So, hmm―” she trailed off, crossing her arms over her chest to ward off the cold.

Before she could think about the end of her sentence, a disturbing sensation brushed over her like a stream of cold water. She tensed up involuntarily, her eyes catching a blurred shadow at the end of the alley. Was it this cold when she’d stepped outside? Her brows drew together, a concerned expression on her face.

Rey slowly drifted away from Nick and everything else, feeling an assertive weight pulling over her. It was strong and compelling, and she quickly realized how terrified she was, trapped in her own body. That same anxiety from earlier that day was back. She was left staring, eyes wide open, at nothingness—but could still map the outline of the empty space. It was a negative space, a design of void, but it was _ there _. And it was coming for her.

“Kira.”

The brutal voice yanked her from the black abyss she was looking into, dragging her away from a cliff. She abruptly turned around, gasping for air in the solid night.

And there he was, the man from the church. Upon that realization, a new feeling of uneasiness caused her heart to beat faster. She should’ve been frightened, aghast even, but she only managed to find irritation in herself.

“The _ fuck _? How are you―are you following me?”

“Who the hell is this guy?”

The stranger shot a murderous look at Nick and for a few seconds, no one dared to even breathe. He stood only a few steps away from her, and Rey wasn’t sure when he had come so close. His back faced the streetlights, making it difficult to discern his expression but she still caught the glimmer of ferocity in his gaze.

“Get lost,” the man growled with a menacing voice.

“Hey, asshole! First of all―”

The stranger finally turned to her companion, his posture rigid and assertive. He towered over Nick by a good head and everything indicated he would be the winner of a fight between them. That was terrifying, for more reasons than Rey could list.

_ Unsafe _.

“I _ said _,” he insisted in a cold, dark tone, taking another step forward. “Get lost.”

Giving some credit to Nick, he didn’t back down. Rey would’ve.

The man looked like a dangerous predator, a wolf hunting for a trophy and _ damn _ ―did it wreck her to the core. Suddenly, she was shivering again, unsure of her feelings, unsure of how to take another breath next to him. Unsure of _ why _she couldn’t tear her eyes off of him.

His skin looked so pale in the darkness, shades of white porcelain covered with ashes, but the fire he held in his stance was the same. She felt herself burning, seeking refuge away from the blaze, yet unable to take that critical step back. 

“Alright, I’m calling the police,” Rey finally said. 

“You don’t remember me.” 

She faltered. It wasn’t a question, just a blank statement, but for a confusing moment, she saw a flash of anguish crossing his eyes like wildfire. She almost missed it, but it was there―_ because _ of her, and she couldn’t possibly fathom the reason behind it. She couldn’t comprehend why this man was so _ hurt _. 

Surely he was mistaking her for someone else. Maybe he suffered from a mental illness, maybe he was delusional. Although he didn’t appear to be—being a rude asshole wasn’t a mental condition, and he acted extremely composed outside of his assholery. So why on Earth wasn’t she dialing the police as she should’ve been? She didn’t want to be murdered by a lunatic and ditched in the Chicago River. She could almost hear Rose’s voice in the back of her mind telling her how stupid she was. 

But she clenched her phone in her hand and forced her voice down. “Yeah, I remember you. You were at the church this morning.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Wait, you know this guy?” Nick questioned.

“No―” Rey started.

“Yes,” the other man said at the same time.

A lingering silence fell on the scene. Rey looked at him with all of her courage, combating the overwhelming weight of his presence.

“Listen up Eric Draven,” she snarled. “I don’t appreciate being stalked. You have exactly two seconds to explain yourself or you’ll do it behind bars, because I’m pretty sure I _ don’t _know you. And my name’s not Ciara.”

“_ Kira _,” he corrected harshly, as if she had let out a profanity. 

“Easy, dickhead.”

It was probably not a smart move, but Nick decided it was time for him to assert dominance. He stood in front of her, shoving his hand against the man’s chest. If she hadn’t been so worked up over the whole situation, Rey would’ve given him some points for bravery. Alas, she was less impressed by the sentiment than she was concerned about her stranger.

With a quick blow, the man deflected Nick’s arm to the side—and he was _ pissed _about it. “Touch me again and you’ll need help wiping your ass.” 

“Alright, enough!” Rey erupted frantically. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I’m obviously not that Kira girl, so take your anger issues and get the fuck outta here! And _ stop _ following me!” She couldn’t tell if he was actually pondering the meaning of her words or if he was trying to contain himself, staring at her, jaw painfully clenched. Either way, she did _ not _like it.

“I have an axe,” she added bluntly, in case it was enough to make an impression on him in any way.

He did not seem impressed in the slightest, but he finally took a step back. “Whatever you do, don’t touch the feathers.”

“Yes, right,” Rey snorted sarcastically. “Of course, I would _ never _.”

For a brief moment, they stared at each other in silence, Rey forced to tilt her head back to match his tall frame. She almost regretted her sarcasm but he didn’t say anything. Chilled to the bone, Rey shrugged her jacket on. Finally, the stranger turned around and walked out of the alley with long strides, disappearing past the corner of the street. It felt like he had never even been there and she took another breath, disoriented and confused.

“You alright?”

She couldn’t answer right away, still fixating on the distant street where she had lost track of the black silhouette. 

“Yeah… don’t worry. If you only knew the number of creeps a girl has to deal with on a daily basis. Classic Chicago night, nothing to see here.”

“Maybe you should’ve called the cops,” Nick told her with concern.

Rey shrugged, nonchalant. “I don’t think they would’ve done much… Just told him to take a walk elsewhere.”

“He was really weird, must’ve been high on something.”

“Probably,” she acknowledged.

Rey thought it was a plausible explanation, except for that it didn’t account for this man following her here somehow. Suddenly, she wasn’t so happy about her decision to not involve the police. What was she thinking? _ You’re fucking stupid. _What if he had been stalking her for a longer period of time? What if he knew where she lived? All of those thoughts were spiralling out of control inside of her brain.

“I think I’m gonna go home,” Rey said without joy.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to get home and make sure the door was double-locked behind her. She thought about spending the night with one of her friends, but she didn’t want to possibly involve them in―whatever was going on here. 

“Are you good going alone?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Alright…” Nick told her. “So, would it be weird to ask for your number now?”

“I think, maybe,” Rey squinted. “Just a little.”

“That sucks.”

“Sorry. But thanks for the chat though.” 

“I’ll see you around maybe?”

“Maybe,” she said, waving her hand to offer a quick goodbye. 

That was probably rude of her, but Rey couldn’t possibly care about that right now. She wanted to feel safe and secure under the blankets of her bed.

It wasn’t late enough for the streets to be totally devoid of life. Rey had to follow the Blue Line tracks down a few stations to get to her building. She shoved her hands in her pockets and started walking at a good pace, her keys painfully digging in the palm of her hand.

It wasn’t the first time Rey had made this walk at night. She wasn’t a frightened kitten, and she knew how to be alert of her surroundings. But tonight, after what happened, it didn’t feel the same. Maybe she should’ve asked for Nick to walk her home. 

As soon as the idea hit her, she dismissed it with a little frown. She didn’t like to be beholden to anybody, _ especially _not a random guy she had just met at a bar. Rey wasn’t good at trusting people. Outside of her few select friends, she rarely let anyone in. And she wasn’t good at asking for help either. But maybe tonight, she should’ve.

Approaching the old brick building, lodged between two identical ones on the residential street, Rey felt her stomach drop before her brain could even register the reason behind it. Something smelled _ odd _in the air. 

She quickly glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the long street with apprehension. Everything felt silent, maybe too much.

Rey stopped in her tracks, noticing how everything around her seemed to still. There were no cars anymore, no pedestrians, not even a neighbor walking their dog. Not a single soul was around and the streets lights were—_ shivering _? 

Rey took a step back on the sidewalk and pulled the keys out from her pocket. At the same moment, something brushed over her right shoulder, something very _ real _ . She almost screamed in surprise. Her pulse abruptly rose while she gasped for air. What _ was _that? Why did everything seem so fucking dark all of the sudden? And that smell―that was sulfur. 

Rey wasn’t able to think of an explanation, not a _ single _one.

“What the_ fuck _―”

She jumped aside when she felt a sting grazing her over her temple like a whip. She pressed the tip of her fingers against her skin and felt a trace of blood under a small cut. Eyes wide open in the darkness, her heartbeat grew irregular and panicked. She couldn’t possibly hear what she thought she was hearing, right? What was it the stranger said? 

_ Whatever you do, don’t touch the feathers. _

Rey tried to make a run for the building door, definitely not interested in testing her theories. For some inexplicable reason, her body seemed uncooperative, paralyzed and slowed down. It felt like she had been dragged underwater, engulfed in darkness, far away from the shore. Surely, she was in the middle of a dream—a sunless one.

Rey tasted the fear in the back of her throat, raw and untamed. An unnatural wind brushed across her cheek and she covered her face with one arm, trying to protect herself. 

“Get _ away _! Get away from me!”

Rey Adhara wasn’t a coward, but tonight, in the pit of this nightmare, she was afraid. She closed her eyes, a childish attempt to keep the bad things at bay. It wouldn’t work, but she didn’t know what else to do. Her brain was paralyzed by the cacophony of sounds surrounding her—a ballet of _ wings _ flying in the moonless night. 

“Kira.” A deep voice abruptly rose across the blackness. “Open your eyes!” 

And then he was there, right next to her.


	3. The Star

**CHAPTER THREE**

> The Star (XVII)
> 
> _ Time to pause and reflect, contemplate what's precious and what's not. _
> 
> _ Archetype: Distance (the unreachable). _

It had taken Kylo a few days to identify the woman. Thankfully, the exorcist had resources and more than a few people he could _ convince _to help him with the task. Turned out she was a college student who had been making extra money babysitting the boy two nights a week. Once he had her full name, it wasn’t too hard to track her down.

Conveniently enough, he heard from Dameron that she had an interview at the church that very morning. Kylo thought it would be a good occasion to approach her—to see why some low-ranking demons were so frantically after her. He wanted to assess her in broad daylight, where he knew any doorways would be more easily closed, if need be. He wanted to make sure she wasn’t possessed, but he wasn’t prepared for whom he came to face with. At all.

Suddenly the chessboard had been flipped upside down.

Standing across from her for the first time in centuries, Kylo knew without a doubt it was _her._ She was the perfect likeness of his burning memory of Kira, down to the way she was frowning at him with conflicted emotions. Upon seeing her, so close, so _real,_ he could no longer make a decision. She should’ve never been here, and for a brief moment, Kylo felt his cold heart shatter in fear—something he hadn’t experienced in decades.

He let her walk away this morning, but not far enough to lose track of her. Something around her wasn’t right, and he was desperate to know what.

Almost immediately, it became quite clear that she was very human and oblivious to all the dangers lurking around her. She was walking around on her own at night, going out with her friends, and talking to strangers, all while shadows were hovering over the crowded bar. She was bait for demons, and they were coming for her. 

Just not across the Other Side.

Kylo felt the wings long before he registered an inexplicable feeling of unease in her own soul. They were _here,_ adding more fuel to his growing confusion. He should’ve been the only one walking in this dimension. Demons were trapped, unable to cross. They were haunting humans from the Other Side, visiting them, lying in wait for their souls. They needed a host to physically manifest on this side. 

Until they didn’t anymore, apparently.

“Kira. Open your eyes!”

In the middle of the pitch-black street, Kylo reached out to grab her arm and drag her to safety, but it was too late for that. He realized it when a menacing claw almost ripped one of his eyes out. He lunged forward, shielding Kira with his tall body. He felt the rhythm of her breathing changing under the touch of fear. She let out a small cry of terror while reflexively trying to get away from him.

It hurt like a hundred knives piercing right through his heart. 

Not only was she afraid of him, she didn’t even _ remember _him. But he wasn’t the one she should’ve been afraid of tonight. 

In the impenetrable darkness, Kylo reached for the hilt of a weapon tucked at his belt. He hadn’t wielded it in a very long time—not since the Jedi Knights had won the last Holy War. The long piece of metal felt cold in the palm of his hand. A familiar sound echoed through the void encircling them. Suddenly, the night was illuminated by a red glowing halo, reflecting on the exorcist’s face and powered by a core of kyber crystals.

Kylo angled the lightsaber to the ground with a rapid arm movement and let the familiar wrath of the battle flow through his veins, scorching hot. The next second, he arched it towards his target. He didn’t need to see them, he could _ feel _them.

The unstable blade collided with the demon in a blazing clash of crimson sparks. It was met with resistance because of the nature of their being, but nevertheless slashed through it under the brute force of Kylo’s blow. The first corpse quickly fell to the ground, dissolving into a pile of dying embers.

The man took a step back, dodging an attack and pushing Kira behind his back with his free hand. She choked on the ghost of a scream and her fingers clenched around the fabric of his jacket, holding onto him like a frightened child. 

The overpowering smell of sulfur and ashes grew stronger when Kylo sliced open another demon, and then another. They fell at his feet with sounds of fury and despair, their long wings retracting to envelop corpse-like bodies made of nothing but bones and rotten flesh. The red blaze of the lightsaber danced around them, following the exorcist’s fury.

Kylo turned around, reacting on instinct. Something hit him right in the gut with inhuman force, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He grunted in acute pain and almost fell backward, slamming violently into Kira. 

The young woman recoiled, stunned. Kylo made a swift correction to his stance, dragging his weapon upward to meet unearthly screeching. His muscles strained under the pressure. His jaw clenched and his face contorted with anger and adrenaline. With a final blow, Kylo breached the demon’s guard. A burst of hot acidic air blew his hair around him as the lifeless body fell to the asphalt.

The remaining corpses still smoldered with an incendiary glow—ashes and smoke swirling in the air without concern for gravity or logic. 

The red glimmer of his weapon reflected in her eyes when he turned to face her. Kylo caught his breath, panting heavily. He felt the dense atmosphere starting to dissipate, like a veil being lifted. Slowly, reality was again pulsing around them.

Kylo shut down his weapon, letting the energy be reabsorbed by the kyber crystals. When he placed it back on his belt, he could still feel the warmth of it radiating through his layers of clothing. 

“What―what the―what was that?” Kira finally managed to breathe out, disoriented. She had taken a step back, eyeing the ashes flying around them in disbelief. When Kylo made a move to stretch his shoulders, her full attention immediately returned to him. She was still afraid of him—but not in the same way. Now she was afraid of what he had _ done _. The next question wasn’t a surprise to him.

“What are you?” she barely whispered, her red lips trembling with the words.

“You need to get off the street,” Kylo answered in a harsh voice. The second the words came out, he saw in her eyes that she took it as a threat. “Wait,” he grunted with a pleading hand.

Kira jumped out of his reach, leaving his arm suspended in the air between them. “_Who are_ you?” she pressed again, with more force this time around.

“I’m… someone you used to know,” Kylo told her, tasting the bitterness of the words on his tongue.

“You said I don’t remember you, and you keep calling me―Kira? What does this mean? You just―killed those _things?_ With your… Damn, I don’t even know!” Her voice was starting to show signs of frustration. She frowned as the need for answers grew stronger. “Am I crazy? We’re having like―a shared hallucination, right? This can’t be fucking real.”

“You’re not crazy,” he said with a grave tone. 

“I’m not?” 

“Those were demons, creatures from the Other Side.”

“Demons don’t exist,” she snorted, defensively crossing her arms over her chest.

“They don’t?” Kylo snarled at her. “Then what do you think just happened?”

“I―don’t know! I was drinking―maybe I’m drunk! Maybe you’re not even here, after I saw you this morning…”

“Listen to me! This―” he gestured around them, “is very real. They were after _ you _.”

“Me?” she blanched. “Why?”

“I don’t know. But I won’t let it happen. Now, get inside and…”

“Don’t follow me!” she suddenly snapped back at him.

Kylo took the blow without moving, fighting to keep his temper at bay. In all of his lives, he had imagined this very moment in a million different ways. He had dreamed of all the things he would say to her when he finally had the chance—when he finally had her back. He had dreamed of seeing her again, taking her in his arms, breathing in her scent all over again. But not one single time had he imagined she would not remember him. He never thought they would become strangers again, not after all they had shared, not after he was fucking _ exiled _for her. Was it another punishment? A joke to burn another scar into his soul? 

Kylo couldn’t comprehend why she was _here,_ nor why she was human. He couldn’t fathom what had happened to her and why she couldn’t remember him, but he knew—oh, he _ knew— _to whom his soul belonged. He had spent an eternity loving her. Neither the Force nor the Serpent could convince him otherwise. 

“Kira…” 

“_ Stop _ calling me that! My name’s Rey!”

He exhaled with a menacing sound of anger. Anger towards his miserable fate and all the battles he had already lost. Now more than ever, Kylo held an unbelievable grudge against his destiny. What if he couldn’t protect her? What if she died in this life? Would she come back again? 

The mere idea of losing her forever tore his heart in half. Never before had he feared such a thing. No matter how cruel and unrelenting his path had been, Kylo had always taken solace in the fact _ she _ was safe, _ she _was at peace. 

Until today.

This young woman, who was barely a child in comparison to his centuries of existence, was in grave danger. This person might have felt like Kira’s soul, but she wasn’t really her anymore—or yet? And _ Rey _was terrified by the premise of her fate.

“I―I don’t know what happened,” she forced out. “And I don’t know who you are, but I want nothing to do with any of this! Demons or whatever the fuck I’m tripping! Don’t come after me again, _ please _.” 

Her voice cracked on the last word as she looked at him in despair. Kylo would’ve liked to reassure her, to tell her he would _ never _hurt her, but could he really promise such a thing? She wouldn’t have believed him anyway. Why would she? He knew what he looked like to others, what his soul looked like. 

Kylo Ren was a demon, cold, dark, and menacing. He was anger and rage, he was the hand of judgment, the son of Darkness. He was an outcast, a traitor, and even his own kin was afraid of him. He was born a monster, groomed to do terrible things to innocent people. And he did so vehemently, fiercely—for so long that he almost lost himself to the venom of vengeance. He almost thought he deservedall the pain he had ever suffered, because he didn’t know any better. No one had ever shown him love or affection until he met her. Only she had seen through his mask, once. 

Kira had forgiven all of his sins when he couldn’t bear to do it himself, and she had taught him that compassion was stronger than any hatred. She had seen _him,_ but no one could be lucky enough to be granted such grace a second time, and surely not a demon.

“You can’t hide from them,” Kylo finally told her, trying to convince her to listen. “You’re not safe.”

“Why do you even care?” she shot back, agitated. “I’m nothing to you!”

“You’re _ everything _to me.” 

The words had slipped through his lips with a bitter tone before he could stop himself. An uncomfortable silence fell on the scene as they looked at each other with apprehension. Kylo knew exactly how he sounded and why she was so eager to get away from him, but what could he have said to her? With a low grunt of frustration, he grabbed her wrist.

“Kir―” he paused. “Rey. _ Please _.”

For a few seconds, the young woman froze, completely unresponsive under his touch. That’s the moment he noticed the color of her eyes in the utter darkness. Brown―they were brown. Kylo frowned in dismay, a sudden terror creeping inside of him. What if he was mistaken? What if Kira was gone? What if she’d never come back to him?

Rey yanked free from his grip violently. “Leave me the fuck alone!” 

She shot him a menacing look before turning around and running to the entrance of her building. For a long moment, Kylo didn’t move, unable to find satisfying answers for the storm of questions wracking his mind.

After some more uncertainty, Kylo decided to follow her. The main door wasn’t even locked. He carefully entered the dark hallway, looking around, following the trace of her presence to the top floor. It was a small building with only a handful of apartments. The man stopped in front of her door, listening to the sounds of the night—to the sounds of the Other Side. Everything was calm, sleeping, _extinct._

For a long moment, Kylo stood silent and motionless, fighting the urge to knock on her door, to see her, to talk to her. It would not have done him any good. Instead, he settled in on a creaking wooden stair, seated in the middle of the gloomy stairwell in solitude, watching over her from afar. 

He would stay here all night, just in case, to make sure she was safe. To make sure he could protect her, even if she didn’t want him to.

✚

“Witch.”

“Get in!” Kaydie commanded with haste. 

The woman almost dragged him inside of her apartment and slammed the door shut with force. The next second, she was reaching for a small copper bowl, filled with a white powder—presumably salt. She grabbed a handful of it, walking around Kylo in a circular pattern, her eyes closed in concentration.

“What are you doing?” he growled. 

Kylo didn’t need her cleansing or her protection, and he had never seen her acting like that. It was pretty unusual for her to be the one reaching out to begin with, but this morning the witch had sent him a text urging him to come over. She needed to talk to him—in person, and that couldn’t possibly be a good omen. After the night he had spent watching over Kira—_ Rey _—the exorcist had a pretty limited amount of patience for any games. 

“I’m trying to close the fucking doors behind you,” Kaydie told him, opening her eyes again.

Kylo frowned, watching her as the witch set the salt back on a shelf. 

“What’s gotten into you? You know how it works,” he said, arrogantly. “I’m a demon, you can’t close the doorways behind _ me _.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still trying because we’re all in deep shit.”

“What?” 

Moving away from the entrance, they stepped into the small living room. New colors were revealed under the morning sun and Kylo caught a glimpse of the kyber crystals resting on the ledge of a small window, methodically arranged by an expert hand.

“I went back to do another reading,” Kaydie explained, wrapping her arms around herself nervously.

She looked unsure, scared. Kylo couldn’t recall having ever seen her like that, not even when a disembodied soul had chosen to claim her home as a new sanctuary for a time. The witch was hardly afraid of anything supernatural, or even demonic, but today—she looked like she was scared to death. 

“I could feel something was off… so I asked. It was―fuck, it was bad.”

“Like what?”

“You know, all those demons… the ones after her? The others? Everyone has felt them. The other exorcists too.”

“I know, I’ve been busy lately.”

“But it’s not just that, Ren. _ They _are trying to possess her―the Knights.”

Suddenly, she took a look over her shoulder, as though to make sure her door was still closed. She probably wasn’t checking for the physical one though. Kylo wondered about the protections she had shielded her place with, the same he had conjured around his flat—old prayers carved into wooden walls.

“They want her,” Kaydie said. “And, I don’t know―I think maybe they’re trying to cross to get her.”

“That’s impossible,” he told her like an evidence, almost scolding her. “They can’t _ cross _.”

Yet, after what he had witnessed last night, Kylo wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

“Well, they’re fucking trying!” Kaydie insisted. “You’re here. So clearly, it’s _ somehow _possible.”

Kylo inhaled sharply, taking in the incense and sage in the air. A distant warning played in the back of his mind while he was trying to put the pieces back together, like an echo of another lifetime. If the witch was right—which she probably was—it meant something bigger was at work here. Something he couldn’t grasp yet.

Why would the Knights of Ren be interested in Rey? It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. They must’ve known about Kira. It must’ve been revenge. The idea made him shiver.

“I really don’t want some major elite demons walking up to my door with murderous intentions, Ren. You need to do something about this or we’re all fucked.” 

“I will. Can you keep an eye open for me?”

“I’m not sure I want to do any more readings for now.” Kaydie ran a hand over her face, brushing her hair back. “It’s like putting a fucking target on my back.”

“You’re a witch―you know how to use crystals.”

“I’m protected from possession, not from your fucking blood brothers showing up to rip me apart!”

“They’re not my brothers,” the man growled with a dark voice. “Not anymore.”

“Maybe, but I guarantee the first person they’ll come after if they have the chance―is you. They might want to test that immortality of yours once again.”

“They can try to kill me, but they can’t destroy my soul.”

“Lucky bastard,” the woman said. “Let me remind you the rest of us are not that fortunate!”


	4. The Moon

**CHAPTER FOUR**

> The Moon (XVIII)
> 
> _ Longing for the sake of longing, and the hope of fulfillment. _
> 
> _ Archetype: _ _ Soul (longing). _

Rey barely slept that night. Her mind was relentless, trying to come up with rational explanations for all the things she had witnessed—without success. 

Each time she closed her eyes, she would see _ them _flashing behind her lids in a crimson haze. Their smell was still strongly etched in her memory, more disturbing than anything she had ever experienced. She couldn’t suppress the cold shiver running down her spine when she thought about it, leaving her to toss and turn in her sheets, falling in and out of sleep when exhaustion overtook her. 

It wasn’t the only vision haunting her mind. He was there as well—the tall, dark figure of a man, whispering unintelligible words into her ear with a deep silky voice, almost seductive. 

She could still feel the heat of his skin where he had grabbed her wrist, as though his fingers had never left her. Rey was burning to the touch, drenched in sweat, and she was drifting away into incoherent dreams.

THE DARKNESS

I know why you came here. But you cannot make me different.

THE LIGHT

I do not want to make you, my love. I want for you to renounce that path for yourself.

THE DARKNESS

You know it's impossible.

THE LIGHT

I feel the conflict in you.

THE DARKNESS

You are the one making me weak. You are trying to seduce me to the other side.

THE LIGHT

It's tearing you apart.

THE DARKNESS

I want to be free of this agony, this pain. I should destroy you. I know I should.

THE LIGHT

Yet you let me come to you.

Rey gently brushed her fingers over his own. He accepted the touch without flinching, and she found herself looking back into a pair of dark eyes and falling behind the mirror of his soul. It was a silent permission, a caring gesture—one that was familiar between them. She knew it wasn’t the first time, but her heart fluttered all the same when he held her hand in his burning palm, dragging her towards him.

His voice came softer, closer, with a strain of agony in his words. He looked at her with a painful frown, the menace of his stature dissolving under the distress of his expression. He dragged a hand upwards to cup her cheek, tracing the shape of her lips with his thumb, contemplating. 

THE DARKNESS

I could never understand, what did you ever see in me?

THE LIGHT

‘He is altogether good, but he is clothed with darkness.’

THE DARKNESS

Do you really believe there is good in me? After all the things that I have done? All of my sins―? They called me a monster―and they were right.

THE LIGHT

You were not created a monster, Kylo. The Serpent made you one.

THE DARKNESS

How could _ you _know?

THE LIGHT

Because we were all born from the stars, some of us just decided to let the luminosity be eclipsed by darkness. But I know your soul―I know your choice is not made yet.

THE DARKNESS

What if you are wrong? What if I corrupt you? What if _ I _ am the one to taint your light?

THE LIGHT

You cannot change me, no more than I can change you. The paths we take are ours alone to take, and when you came to me the first time, I saw what your future may hold. 

THE DARKNESS

I saw yours too―in my visions you were always standing by my side. Look at us now, we are nothing but fools.

Rey felt her own voice being caged inside of her chest, unable to respond immediately. Of course, they were fools. But despite all of that, despite all the differences that were destined to force them on opposite sides—to birth them as enemies—she still had faith in him. 

She had hopes that their fate wasn’t being written by someone else’s hand. She wanted to _believe._ Under stellar skies she was granted the gift of love by the Force, and the freedom to give it to anyone she chose to. She had chosen him, Son of Darkness, Master of the Knights of Ren, and she would not back down now. 

It was a choice some couldn’t understand, not even him—maybe not even herself, but Rey had enough faith for both of them if need be. She would make the same vow over and over again, until he believed her. Until he too had the same faith to guide his wanderings.

Upon looking into her eyes, he must’ve seen her resolve. She caught a reflection of fear in his familiar features and his hand fell back to her neck, where it rested without moving. It wasn’t a menacing gesture to her, but he appeared to be frightened by his own thoughts, shivering against her.

Even though she knew he would’ve been able to suppress it, he allowed a single tear to leave a shimmering trail on his pale skin. Rey had never seen a demon crying before, and the vulnerability of his tormented soul stained her own heart with a cry of mercy. 

She buried her fingers between soft strands of black hair, gently brushing it away from his face. His embrace tightened around her, moving from her neck to wrap around her waist, pulling her against his solid chest. Rey welcomed the warmth of his body with a gentle fervor, seeking the burn of it even. It had taught her that Kylo wasn’t like the others—his heart wasn’t dead. His heart was a fire, ablaze like kyber, and he was strong enough to change his own story.

Rey reached to him, barely touching his parted lips with the ghost of a kiss. She closed her eyes, her nose rested against his while her breathing grew heavier in his arms.

THE LIGHT

That mask of darkness makes a monster out of you, just like the one He bears since his fall. But should you choose to renounce it, I would help you.

THE DARKNESS

What if I don’t want the Light? What if I just want you?

THE LIGHT

Desire and love are two different things. You must know that better than anyone. I am not yours to possess―I am just yours to love. 

THE DARKNESS

Yet, my love has always been yours to possess, Kira.

Rey felt her heart quivering with the way he spoke her name, like a prayer. There was an intensity to his voice, an intelligence to it, brought on by a million years of existence. He never said anything that didn’t need to be said. They could’ve looked at each other in complete silence and it would’ve been enough, but she loved to hear the edge of his tone, even through bitter words. No one had ever spoken her name like he did—with deference and adoration and _need._

Before him, she didn’t even know she wanted it; but she wanted him. The love _ and _the desire. And he wanted her back.

When he kissed her, Rey anchored herself to the fabric of his cape, tugging him down to her. She knew it was only a projection of her mind—as physical matter didn’t really exist on the Other Side. Every time they had met though, he was always clothed in imposing layers of black. She hadn’t failed to notice the irony in that subconscious choice, but the archetype probably made sense to her psyche. 

She didn’t mind it. She wondered what sort of projections he had of her. Was she dressed in white? Was she luminous? Was she pretty in a demon’s eyes? She only knew how fierce he looked, how compelling and bewitching he was to her. 

Rey secretly wished to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, just so he would keep looking at her for all of eternity. She knew in her heart it was wrong—it was a sinful thing to wish for, full of vanity. Maybe she should’ve been more careful with what she wished for. Maybe she should’ve known better; she should’ve _ been _better.

Rey just kept kissing him back, drifting away into blissfulness, and nothing mattered but his hands on her and the way his body pressed into hers. It couldn’t be wrong if it felt so _ right _to be with someone, no matter who he was born to be. 

She welcomed his imperious lips against hers each time more eagerly, and she felt more alive doing so. Not just like a spirit, but like a true beating heart, like a _person._ Despite all of her everlasting existence, Rey felt the most human when she was in his arms, and it was the most brilliant feeling of them all. 

They lay down together. It wasn’t dark around them, not in her own mind, but Rey only registered the proximity of his being while she pushed those solemn layers of clothes away from him. Black hair fell on his face as he was resting between her legs, rediscovering her body with his own perception. They intertwined their hands almost desperately, seeking an unbreakable bond they couldn’t be granted, and Rey could’ve sworn she saw a crimson shade lacing over their fingers. Maybe it was an illusion, maybe it was a warning.

She didn’t pause to think about it at that moment, as it was too late for that anyway. She only closed her eyes and moaned softly under his touch, arching her body towards him in need. 

They never spoke as they made love, as if it was sacred ground and a single word would’ve been blasphemy between their unguided souls. She could only hear the sound of his breathing, heavy and so dearly close to her. It was a poem without rhyme, but she knew the meaning of it by heart. She loved it, as much as she loved the way he let her reach for his soul, willing to be at her mercy as much as she was at his. There was no going back from this, not anymore, not for them.

Rey was burning up under the fire of his fingers on her skin. She parted her lips while he kissed her neck roughly, searching for air, pressing her thighs firmly around him. She needed to feel him inside of her. The solitude hurt her more than anything ever had. She grabbed his neck with one hand, feeling a thin layer of sweat making his hair stick to his skin. He was desperate, she could sense it in the signature of his soul. They both were. Rey whimpered incoherently when she felt him pushing into her, deeply.

He groaned with an almost painful sob of satisfaction. Maybe it was guilt―to take what wasn’t theirs to take. Rey couldn’t care anymore. Her whole body clenched around his length. She saw stars in an infinite night sky and dragged her fingernails along his back, coming to rest on his hips. She wanted him to move and to let the fire inside of her burn until there was nothing left.

Everything about him was a stark contrast to her, but they were made to be together. She could almost see it, the way he was going to _ fuck _ her until she lost her voice for him between constellations and nothingness. She could _ feel _it, waiting for him to move.

Until she woke up―panting, aching, throbbing. 

Rey almost ripped her sheets apart, violently shaking in the middle of her own bed, eyes wide open in the darkness. She turned around, whimpering, desperately trying to chase down the last bit of his memory, to return to him. She was so ready to die, then and there, her frustration taking over, crying over the loss of his touch―the loss of his whole being. She wanted nothing more than to return to his arms, return to his loving embrace and feel pleasure. She wanted _him._

Rey wanted that man more than she wanted to breathe and right now, it felt like she had just lost her reason to live all over again.

✚

Crazy. She was going fucking crazy.

Even if someone had managed to put some kind of drug in her drink last night without her noticing—which was very unlikely—surely the effects would’ve dissipated by now. Losing her mind was the only explanation Rey had left. 

She had never felt this miserable in her entire life. She was so physically sick when she woke up that morning that she even considered going to the ER, but a part of her was afraid doctors wouldn’t find anything wrong with her. She was afraid to come face to face with the inexplicable, not knowing what was happening to her, yet dreading finding out.

Instead, she dragged herself out of bed at an agonizingly slow pace, a cold sweat gripping her body and her head ready to burst open under the aggressive daylight. The hot shower didn’t do much to make her feel better and she quickly dismissed the idea of going to classes that day, unable to focus on anything. 

She sent a quick text to her group chat to let her friends know that she wouldn’t be showing up on campus. Rose and Tallie immediately replied with concern and many questions, but she pretended she had a very bad flu, trying to tame her own panic in the process.

It wasn’t the flu, no matter how much she would’ve liked it to be. It would’ve been so much easier, but Rey wasn’t having an easy day. 

She couldn’t get what she had experienced last night out of her goddamn mind. She just―_ couldn’t._ It was all she was still capable of thinking about, and each time she tried to push it down, she only remembered the way he kissed her―the way he made her feel. The way she felt with his fucking dick inside of her. 

Rey wasn’t sure anymore if it was some kind of sick attempt by her brain to process the fact a menacing stranger was stalking her, or if she had already completely lost it. Nothing could’ve explained how real it was to her. She wasn’t just dreaming about it, she was _ living _it.

_ That’s it, you’re crazy. _

She grunted in pain, pressing her forehead to the cool surface of her fridge. Her brain hammered against her skull like it was trying to get out, and she saw white patches of stars anytime she closed her eyes. She had never experienced something like this. 

She wasn’t even that concerned about the wet dream part, but much more by the fact that she still wanted him now, while she was _awake._ Some stupid part of her wanted nothing more than to see that fucking man again. How crazy was that? She should’ve been scared to death for Force’s sake! Not trying to schedule a booty call with the creep.

Rey needed answers yesterday, and was desperate enough to seek them anywhere. 

✚

“No, you don’t understand. It’s urgent!” 

“I’m sorry,” the young aide said to her with a concerned frown. “Master Skywalker is at a conference in Milwaukee. I’m afraid he won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“Fucking shit,” Rey grunted painfully. “Sorry—sorry! I just—listen, I need to speak to him, like today. Right now.”

Her frantic behavior was clearly setting her interlocutor off. 

She must’ve looked like a crazy person, or a junkie in withdrawal. You’d think people in Chicago would’ve seen too much to care about such things, but Rey had earned her fair share of accusatory looks on the train on her way here—which was indication enough of the state she must’ve been in.

The ride was dreadful. She almost threw up before she could even enter the church, but managed to stand up long enough to find someone to talk to. And _now,_ that boy had the nerve to tell her the priest wasn’t here. What was she supposed to do? Come back? She was on the verge of fucking dying—she couldn’t just _ come back._

“I _ need _to see someone.”

The urgency in her voice startled the boy. He looked at her like she was possessed, tugging at the brown edge of his tunic nervously.

“I’m sorry, may I help you?”

Rey immediately turned around to meet the man who had just spoken to her. In the half-darkness of the church’s aisle, she barely managed to discern his face, but his voice bore a friendly tone. He smiled at her, holding a hand out that she couldn’t bring herself to shake.

“You’re a priest?” Rey bluntly asked, all notions of civilities forgotten in the storm of her blurry mind.

“Ah, yes I am,” the man said with a soft smile. “Father Dameron.”

“Great.”

Rey quickly decided it would have to do. This guy was as good as she could get right now.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure,” he said calmly, retrieving his hand. “Do you want to sit down?”

He gestured towards an empty row of wooden benches between two stone pillars supporting old candelabras. Rey followed the invitation without a word and waited for him to join her, out of earshot of anyone else. She could tell the boy was more than happy to get rid of her, but she didn’t have a single fuck left to give. She pressed her sweaty palms together on her lap, breathing heavily under the oppressive silence of the sacred place. How was she going to explain this? 

“What can I do for you… ?” the priest offered, lingering on his sentence for an introduction.

“Rey.”

“Rey—” he repeated after her with a curious inflection. 

She was almost too drowsy to notice the shift in attitude. Maybe she had imagined it. 

“I have some questions… about—hmm—narratives,” Rey told him sternly. “What do you know about the Knights of Ren?”

The pause was highly uncomfortable. 

“Well, that—” the priest answered with a contrived smile. “I believe there is a lot to tell. A lot of sacred texts have mentions of them, with different meanings and motives that we like to dissect nowadays.”

“I need the crash course,” she insisted dryly.

For a few seconds, the man was confounded by her attitude. He tried to mask his emotions in a fake attempt at sympathy. Rey still noticed the way the corners of his mouth twitched under an unpleasant smile. She wasn’t duped, but she didn’t care either way.

“May I ask why?”

“Look, if you can’t help,” Rey said, already trying to stand up, “I’ll find someone who can.”

“No, please, Rey. Please,” he soothed her with a hand over her arm.

With a reluctant look, the young woman sat back down next to the priest, barely fighting the urge to slam her head on one of the granite pillars.

“I assume you’re familiar with the Church of Jediism?” Father Dameron finally asked. 

“To some extent, yes.” 

“Well, after his fall from the Light, the Serpent vowed to create his own Kingdom to take back what he thought was rightfully his.”

“The Force,” Rey absentmindedly recalled.

“Precisely. He thought that the Force didn’t belong in the realm of the living and intended to claim it back from the hands of Humanity. Thus, he created the original demons to help him with that task, Sons of Darkness—the Knights of Ren.”

A weird silence punctuated the declaration as Rey was trying to apply some sort of order to her thoughts. 

“How do they ‘_claim it back_’ exactly? Do they just—kill people or, I don’t know, curse them or something?”

“It doesn’t really work like that,” the man told her with a cautious tone.

“And how does it work?”

She was met with a reluctant gaze and had to restrain herself from shaking the priest to force him to cough up the information she needed. Father Dameron frowned. His friendly mask finally cracked as his voice grew heavier with his next words.

“You must understand, this is a very literal interpretation of scripture.”

“So what, it’s not real? That’s what you’re telling me? There is no demon?”

_ Of course there isn’t, you’re just fucking crazy. _

“You’re seeking very definitive answers on something very complex, Rey. May I ask once again why you’re so interested in this?”

“How complex is it?” she pursued with a frown of her own, ignoring the warnings. “Do _ you _believe in demons, Father?”

The man recoiled, troubled. He bowed his head and moved his fingers nervously.

“I’m an exorcist, so I can hardly say I don’t.”

“An—exorcist,” Rey gasped. “As in… possession?”

“Quite so.”

That was unexpected, to say the least. She couldn’t decide if she felt relief or terror upon hearing the information. Maybe he could’ve helped her, if he didn’t have her committed to an asylum or burnt alive for the things she was about to ask of him. In all of her studies, she had never covered that particular topic—but she knew how far theology could lead. Caution seemed more appropriate than ever.

“Have you ever seen… unexplainable things?” she still managed to ask.

“I have seen all sorts of things.”

Rey was too far gone to turn back now, she needed to find explanations _somewhere._ She didn’t have any patience for riddles and metaphors. It would’ve sounded crazy to her just yesterday, but after the night she had, she wasn’t so sure anymore of what she was willing to believe or not. Desperation was a poor advisor.

“So you believe it’s real then?” she asked. “The Knights of Ren—seeking vengeance on mankind? That’s what you’re fighting?”

The man gave her a pointed look before he responded. It seemed to Rey as if he was carefully selecting his words, and she wondered what could possibly make him so reluctant to answer. Surely, as a priest, he must’ve believed in something else.

“Whatever I may have witnessed, you must understand this is not some sort of Hollywood movie. Most of the time, it takes days or even weeks to be certain a person is even possessed. We must rule out all other possibilities before doing anything else. Demons are deceitful, and they don’t like to show their faces.”

“They don’t?”

“No, they always operate from the Darkness.”

That wasn’t helping her—at all. Those… _ things _weren’t trying to hide very hard. But what did she know? She wasn’t the expert.

“So—not here?” 

“Of course not,” the priest told her thoughtfully. “That’s why they try to possess people. They seek vulnerable souls to be able to walk this realm and birth chaos, but our faith is the keeper of Balance.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much faith,” Rey whispered like a guilty child.

“It’s never too late to walk a different path.”

“No offense, but I’m really not here for a spiritual journey,” she said with more spite than she would’ve liked. “I’ve got another question for you, Father. Is there someone named Kylo?”

“There… is.” 

Rey almost thought he would never articulate the rest of his fucking answer.

“In the scriptures, Kylo is a Primordial Demon. He’s the Master of the Knights of Ren, the first Son of Darkness, and he met a tragic fate.”

“What do you mean? What fate?” 

She barely remembered to breathe while waiting for him to continue.

“He led a rebellion against the Serpent and was expelled from the Other Side as a punishment for his crimes. He’s not officially considered to be a Dark One anymore, as a fallen entity.”

“What do you mean expelled? Where did he go?”

“Well… I was not personally there so it’s hard to say,” the priest joked softly.

Rey didn’t smile. At all.

“So we don’t know—_ anything _.”

The man eyed her suspiciously.

“I know one thing, Rey,” he told her with a heavy tone. “Whatever interest you have in Kylo Ren, you should tread very carefully. It might open the wrong doors, and I do not wish for you to come face to face with things you cannot fight back against… Do _ not _approach the Darkness, by any means. If you look into It, It looks back into you.”

“What if… it’s too late?” Rey asked, eyes dilated in fear. “What should I do then, Father? Close my eyes and fucking _ pray _?”


	5. Strength

**CHAPTER FIVE**

> Strength (VIII)
> 
> _ Strength of a kind that's superior because of its clever application. _
> 
> _ Archetype:  _ _ Hero (great feat). _

Kylo felt as if time was slipping through his hands, fast. 

After centuries of existence, he was going to run out of fucking  _ time  _ while he was searching for answers. The irony of it tasted like acid in his mouth. But the witch was right— _ of course she was, that’s why you work with her.  _

How many nights could he stand watch over Rey? How many times could he be there just in time to save her? Before it was too late—before something got to her—before they found her—before they  _ claimed  _ her. Kylo shivered in fear. His heart was bleeding him dry. If he wanted to have a chance at this cursed game, he needed to understand, he needed to  _ know _ . First hand.

He angrily walked into the  _ Azur Angel _ —nicknamed the  _ Azul  _ by its regular customers. The club was situated in one of the most central parts of Chicago, where life never really stopped and no one ever wandered by accident. Arguably, all of the people walking the metal staircase to access the lower level of the  _ Azul  _ had already lost their way. And none of them wished to find it back.

Some called it Balance—arrogantly so. Some called it treason. Kylo called it cravenness.

They sat back like watchers on the wall, waiting to see the events of time unfold before them, without ever taking part in it. They were gifted people: witches, mages, necromancers, Immortals too—or had they been. Light Spirits or Dark Ones, fallen from grace, some even by design. Unlike him, some of them had chosen this life, and it left Kylo bitter and resentful. Until he remembered that he too had chosen the fall—even if not explicitly. 

He would’ve exiled himself for Kira of his own free-will. They just had beaten him to it.

“_Abrenuntias Serpens et Fortitudo?_” asked an anonymous voice from behind a closed metal door.

“ _ Abrenuntio _ ,” Kylo answered without hesitation.

The door opened, granting him access. 

The club wasn’t crowded, almost silent. Kylo pretended not to notice the looks that fell on him as he walked across the main area, among the dark red velvety chairs and wooden tables. Soft music was playing in the background—not the kind of music you would expect in a place like this. But what would someone expect in a place like this, anyway?

None of the smattering of customers took it upon themselves to throw a glass of liquor at him, and he supposed that was a small victory. Here too, Kylo Ren had found himself at the shallow end of a twisted popularity contest. What he had or hadn’t done to deserve it was up for debate. Centuries of animosity could sow the seeds of a lot of discord. Maybe it was simply his fate—to always be an outcast, no matter which side he chose.

He didn’t care anymore.

He only cared about Rey. Everything else could go to ruin under his watch and he wouldn’t find the will to throw his body into the crossfire another time. He had borne his sins for too long—a whole eternity. Surely someone else could take that bullet for him now.

Kylo opened the back door without knocking.

On the other side of it, he came face to face with a man he hadn’t seen in decades, and who he hadn’t ever wished to see again, but here they were.  _ Fate _ , he thought again.  _ No, not fate. A curse. _

“Where the  _ fuck  _ do you think you are?” roared an angry voice.

“Cut it,” Kylo said. “Troubles are coming.”

“Yes, troubles for your demonic ass!” 

Rising from an oversized armchair that better qualified as a throne, Serafinn hit the ground with the end of a silvery cane. A deadly weapon in the hands of the Immortal. Kylo had seen him in action, long ago—when they were still trying to make a difference in the Balance, before everything crumbled around them and left them in this realm of ashes.

They had been enemies, now they were—not  _ quite  _ that anymore. 

Serafinn had rebelled against his own side, just like Kylo did, and he too had been exiled for it. He had erected this place as a refuge for lost souls, a neutral ground, a utopia maybe. He believed it was the only way to achieve real Balance. In forgetting the weight of their crimes and the nature of their souls, he hoped something new would come, even long after their time. Serafinn might be a fallen spirit, but he was still an idealist, and one with a horrid sense of fashion.

The purple pattern of his silk shirt clashed with the red velvet jacket. Only he could pull off something so horrendous and still appear menacing in front of his visitor. Serafinn wasn’t to be taken lightly, and neither his smile nor his charisma were present to greet the exorcist in his office.

“I need to use the Holocron,” Kylo said.

“Yeah, what else?” His interlocutor laughed at him dryly.

“You’ll want to listen to me first.” 

“I don’t believe anything you have to say could interest me, Kylo Ren.”

“Isn’t arrogance one of your sins?” Kylo hissed angrily.

The tension floating over the scene was almost unbearable. Kylo’s eyes narrowed to follow the movement of the other man, watching closely as he wielded the concealed blade in front of him. His own hands weren’t far from his sides, and itching to reach for the hilt of his lightsaber. But the damage would be too great to be forgiven.

“Remember last time we saw each other?” Serafinn asked him, almost innocently. “I said I would kill you if you ever came into my sight again.”

“I remember that.” 

“Lying is definitely a sin in my book.”

The threat wasn’t even subtle. Kylo breathed out, exasperated by the sound of time ticking in his head, unrestrained. “And yet, here I am.”

“Here you are,” Serafinn whispered as an echo, his dark eyes shining with an unnatural glimmer. He paused, contemplating, and both his hands came to rest on the engraved pattern swirling around the silvery cane. “What business do you have with a Holocron?”

“Kira,” he said—almost like a prayer. “I need to know what happened to her.”

“You— _ you _ happened to her!” the other man growled, suddenly infuriated. “Don’t you think you have done  _ enough  _ to her?”

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about! Listen to me! Something is off Balance, something is coming  _ here _ .” Kylo clenched his fists so he didn’t have to hit the fallen spirit with all of his rage. “If you truly want your neutrality, you better help me on this. She was your  _ sister _ !”

Serafinn had his hands around Kylo’s neck before he could draw his next breath. The Immortal threw him against the wall and pulled him off his feet, suffocating him in a rage. Kylo’s head hit the dark wood with a sickening sound. He felt fingers digging into his skin, pressing into his trachea without mercy. His vision blurred for a moment and he gripped his hands around Serafinn’s forearms. He could’ve reached for his weapon, but didn’t.

“How  _ dare  _ you,” Serafinn growled, his tone as dark as his thoughts. “How dare you come into my house and speak to me as if I didn’t care? She was  _ my  _ sister, and you corrupted her!”

“I—didn’t,” Kylo managed to choke out.

“You  _ seduced  _ her!” he yelled back. “You tainted her soul and then you broke her heart, murderous snake!” 

“I loved her!” 

At last, the pressure on his windpipe eased. Kylo got on his feet again, coughing with a sore throat. When he dared to look at Serafinn again, he was unable to decipher his expression.

“You loved her so much that she chose the fall rather than living without you,” Serafinn told him with an unemotional voice.

“ _ What _ —” Kylo barely whispered, a chill running down his back. 

“Everything you touch burns down to ashes, Kylo Ren, Son of Darkness. I’ll give you the Holocron then, so you can see for yourself what you have done to the brightest Light of us all.”

✚

Kylo stumbled outside of the  _ Azul  _ in a daze. His eyes protested the sudden daylight, as if he had emerged from Darkness for the first time once again. The aggressive sounds of the street startled his brain and he couldn’t remember the walk to his vehicle until he had his keys in hands and fumbled with the driver’s side door.

He sat there, unmoving, completely blind to the reality of the city around him. Loud echoes from a different realm still danced in his mind, knowledge he shouldn’t have been able to possess—yet the Jedi Holocron was an omniscient artifact and Kylo had looked into the eye of the storm one time too many times. 

He felt the fracture in his weeping soul, the guilt and the misery. All of those centuries, Kira was never safe. She was never at peace. And it was all because of him.

Kylo’s fury was stoked like wildfire. The man repeatedly punched both hands against the steering wheel, bruising his skin over the black leather, screaming. Loose hair fell in front of his eyes as he raged. Curious onlookers turned to look from the sidewalk, before quickly continuing on.

When his temper finally dissipated, he closed his eyes and threw his head back against the seat. Kylo ran a heavy hand over his tired face. His lips parted, not able to give voice to the sound of despair that resonated inside of him. That fucking fool was right.  _ You did that to her, Ren. She chose the fall to be with you.  _

And now, he knew. Kira as he had once known her was gone, forever. 

_ Forever _ —a hateful concept.

Kira would never again be a Light Spirit, her immortality stripped from her—surrendered by her own will. And all of the lifetimes Kylo had spent looking for absolution were nothing but sand between his bloody hands. He had been used by the same faith that had always plagued his whole fucking existence, when he could’ve been looking for her instead. If he had only known where to look. 

Kira wasn’t on the Other Side anymore. 

Kira didn’t exist anymore, not like she used to.

But Rey did, and she was in so much more danger than she could endure.

When his phone rang, Kylo almost threw it through the windshield out of rage. The caller ID was the only thing that kept him from it.

“Witch.”

“If you have ever trusted me,” Kaydie said hastily, “get to Monroe and Dearborn,  _ right now _ .”

Kylo frowned, his mouth dry. “Why?”

“They’re coming for her. Hurry up, I can almost sense it.”

“Kaydie.”

Before he could say anything else, the witch spoke again, an unbelievably sad note in her voice, void of any fear. 

“That was my last crystal, Ren. It shattered.”

Kylo held his phone with one hand, igniting the engine with the other. 

“ _ Fuck _ ! Where are you?”

“Doesn’t matter. They saw me.”

“I can—”

“You have to stop it,” she said to him firmly, “or everyone is fucked. This time, it’s bigger than you or me. They  _ cannot  _ get her, you understand? That’s my last wish, Exorcist.”

“ _ Kaydie _ !”

“Farewell, asshole.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving Kylo only the distressing sound of an empty line. A crushing pain burst in his chest, ripping him apart with a silent cry, as he realized he may have lost the closest friend he'd had in nearly two millennia. 

✚

Kylo Ren had seen every sort of Evil in this world and fought even more of it. But never before had he been confronted by something like  _ this _ .

When he reached the L station, he didn’t need to search for any signs. The whole area reeked of Darkness, guiding him underground like a lighthouse in the middle of a moonless night. The smell of sulfur was overwhelming and clogged his lungs. Demons lurked around, converging on the same exact place—all of them— _ here _ . People had stopped walking around the station, instead simply standing by like motionless creatures, staring into nothingness. Kylo ran through the crowd, pushing them aside without care. 

Not a single soul reacted.

He reached the train platform and the white neon lights flickered. From where he stood, Kylo scanned the crowd for the one face he had searched for through life and death. She was at the other end of the platform, between two white pillars, and she turned around as if she had sensed his arrival.

He caught the shining reflection of burning fear in her eyes while she stood in a sea of stringless puppets—unknowing, unable to understand. Yet she knew it was  _ wrong _ . 

The next second, the lights all went dark with a loud sound and sparks rained down from the roof. Only the red glow of the emergency exit panels stayed on.

Kylo tightened his grip around his lightsaber, a new anger flooding his veins like liquid fire. The bloody halo of the weapon blazed the darkness, as he quickly marched towards Rey. He hadn’t gone twenty steps before the first attack was unleashed on him.

They were possessed— _ all  _ of them.

Kylo dodged the unnatural blow and arched his arm to protect himself. Before he had the time to analyze it, something plunged towards him from the ceiling. Wings of Darkness. He was thrown off balance by a violent attack and barely managed to hit his target with the end of his weapon, saving himself from possible evisceration.

The taste of ashes permeated his mouth. 

Next thing he knew, something caught him right below his guard and his back violently collided with a pillar, prying a grunt of pain from his throat. Already, another one of the possessed humans lunged towards him and he impaled the man on the crossguard of his weapon with a furious blow. 

He hadn’t planned on killing any of them—didn’t want to, but the choice had been ripped from his hands. Those people were goners. He couldn’t save all of them— _ any _ of them. He wasn’t here for them. He was done doing any good for this world. The Church could come and save them. They could try and save themselves. 

From now on, Kylo Ren cared about one thing and one thing only.

With a furious leg kick, he pushed back the dead body blocking his way. The lightsaber swung around and sliced a demonic corpse in half, projecting gleaming ashes around them while it fell to the ground. Cries of anger and fury rang in his ears, animalistic, distorted by the reverberation of Darkness. Kylo pushed himself from his cornered angle, all of his muscles tensing with each strike. He turned around swiftly, following the inertia of his movements. The movements of battle were engraved in his memory, an echo of past lives. The same pain, the same heat, the same urgency, only a different place and time. 

Nothing had changed since the most ancient times. The long layers of his attire might have been replaced by black trousers, but the burn of the kyber crystal in his hand traveled his entire body with the same rage—igniting every one of his nerves, the raw nature of his being. 

When the next attack caught him in the back, the pain was muffled by white-hot adrenaline. Blood splattered around, spilling from a wound, but he didn’t stop.

“ _ Kylo _ !” 

That fearful scream was the only thing he heard. 

She had screamed  _ his  _ name—one he was deadly sure he had never told her. Not in this life.

A new surge of frenzy pushed him closer, annihilating everything that was standing between them—whatever it was. This was  _ not  _ the day Primordial Demons were going to possess a renegade Light Spirit, not while Kylo Ren was still breathing.

At the end of the train platform, Rey started to run towards him when he broke through the mass of bodies surrounding them. He caught her in his arms as they collided together, holding his lightsaber at her back with an extended arm. She held onto him desperately, her breathing sharp and unsteadily. Panic had her shaking from head to toe.

“You’re hurt!” 

Her voice came out between short pants as her hands were stained red with his own blood. 

“Run,” he growled, pushing her along with him. “Run!” 

The pair of them ran to the end of the elevated platform. Kylo had to turn around to slide his lightsaber across one of the corpses emerging from the swirling darkness. The veil separating the Other Side was shrinking and the last remnants of red light were dying down, leaving only the crimson blade to illuminate the scene. 

Kylo clenched his jaw through the pain as the wound on his back was torn apart and blood made the fabric of his shirt stick to his skin. With a quick move, Kylo grabbed Rey by the arm and lowered her down onto the tracks. Her feet hit the gravel covering the rails and he jumped next to her. 

With his free hand, Kylo reached for the inner pocket of his jacket and grabbed a flask made of perfectly polished metal. While time seemed to stretch into eternity, he launched the flask in the air. He then arched his lightsaber to hit it right in the center. The powerful blade cut through it without any effort, melting the sterling silver to disperse the liquid that it contained. The contact produced by the two polar opposites resulted in a powerful blast, illuminating the darkness with a purple shade of electricity.

Kylo ducked down and held Rey to the ground while the dark water exploded with the force of a grenade. Those motherfuckers were about to learn some things were more deadly than holy water—like the cursed water of a witch.

The force of the explosion rippled around them, with clothes and hair flying in the air. Kylo maintained his grip on Rey and let out a deep breath that emptied his lungs, absorbing the impact. 

A cold silence emerged from the petrified battlefield.

Slowly, the exorcist opened his eyes again and lifted his head to assess the situation. Nothing was moving anymore, alive or dead. And it was all thanks to Kaydie.

Under him, the young woman moved slightly. His focus immediately shifted back to her and their gazes locked beyond the immediate reality of their surroundings. Her red lips parted and she placed a trembling hand on his face, gently touching him. He froze at the contact and waited for her to move or speak. 

“Please,” she said with a voice full of tears. “Tell me I’m not crazy.”

“You’re not,” he managed to force out, still catching his breath. 

“I know you, don’t I?”

Rey looked at him in dismay for a long moment, as if she was trying to decide the answer to her own question. She then crossed her arms behind his neck and hugged him tighter, her head coming to rest over his shoulder. He hugged her back avidly and buried his face into her hair, breathing in her scent for the first time since forever. 

Something seemed to break inside of him with every second she held onto him, but he didn’t let go—he could never let go of her ever again. 

“ _ He is altogether good, but he is clothed with darkness _ ,” she whispered into his ear, and then he knew.

She remembered all of it.


	6. The Lovers

**CHAPTER SIX**

> The Lovers (VI)
> 
> _ Deeply felt mutual attraction - for as long as it lasts. _
> 
> _ Archetype: _ _ Love (intense affection). _

His place was strange.

Not because of the location—even though the old industrial complex wouldn’t have been her first residential choice—but for the feeling it gave her as soon as she stepped inside. A different world, with different rules. What else could she have expected? Everything about the situation was surreal. The complex black symbols painted on the door frame were probably the least of her worries.

Rey was beyond madness. After what she had just seen, walking home with a _ not quite _ human didn’t raise any flags in her mind anymore. She was too far gone, unable to shut down the memories dancing in the ballroom of her mind. _ Memories _ . She wasn’t hallucinating, she wasn’t crazy. She knew it didn’t make any sense, but she just— _ knew _.

And every time she came near him, their proximity unlocked a new stream of emotions in her mind.

Torn between reason and intuition, Rey chose to follow the latter—to the ends of the earth if she had to. 

Kylo had saved her from her death—twice. Maybe more, definitely more. They didn’t meet for the first time in this timeline. She was Rey, of that she was sure. But she was also—not entirely that. Maybe it was only an impenetrable dream, but it was as real as it could get, and she was currently living in it. Who was she to decide which reality mattered the most? 

Kylo was the night she had slept with for so long, and she didn’t want to wake up alone again—ever. She _ needed _to be near him.

“You’re bleeding,” Rey said with a concerned voice. 

“I’m fine.”

“Let me see.” Her tone was firm, more confident than she really felt. She was grateful.

He considered her for a moment, but she detected no anger or irritation in his dark eyes. A stark contrast to the rage he had displayed earlier, all to protect her—again. She hadn’t understood it when she’d met him at the bar, but she did now. The animosity and coldness he harbored were never aimed towards her. He bore the weight on his shoulders so she didn't have to, and it shaped him into the man he was.

“Let me see,” Rey repeated with a softer tone. 

She tilted her head, waiting. He sighed, somehow defeated, and moved to remove his blazer. Rey took the black fabric in her hands to help him, sliding it down his arms while she tried not to look at his face too closely. She still felt the burn of his gaze on her, and her heartbeat quickened.

Kylo deposited the torn garment on the long kitchen table, still tense. Rey put a hand on his arm and made him turn around to inspect the damage more closely. She forgot all about the heat in her cheeks for a moment. The lacerations on his skin were bad, and blood had started to dry, merging the fabric of his shirt with his massive frame.

“Take if off,” she said. 

Under the gloomy light barely penetrating through large steel windows, Rey watched his hands unbutton the ruined shirt. She forced herself to swallow past the lump in her throat. She then grasped his collar to slide it down carefully and returned her attention to his back. Ash-white skin, constellations of beauty marks and faded scars—so many of them.

Before she could ask herself if she was allowed to, Rey traced the shapes with her fingertips, barely touching him. A shiver ran down his spine and even though she couldn’t see his face, she knew it wasn’t from discomfort.

“I need something to clean it out.” 

“Vodka. In the fridge.”

“Seriously?” she grunted. 

“Yes, why?” He sounded genuinely curious. “It’s great against demonic manifestations.”

“Oh.” 

Where was she supposed to fit this type of information in her daily life? Rey didn’t know, but she decided to let it go. She wasn’t the expert after all. She walked to the fridge to retrieve said vodka. She spotted a clean washcloth on a shelf nearby and grabbed it as well.

“Alright, sit down,” she instructed, like she owned the place. 

While she opened the clear glass bottle, Kylo flipped a chair around and straddled it, crossing his arms over it. Rey tried to ignore the way his black hair stuck to the nape of his neck with a thin trace of sweat, and the pull of the muscles between his shoulder blades. She soaked the washcloth in alcohol and pressed it down to the wounds with a light hand. He tensed at the contact, but didn’t make a sound.

Biting her lip nervously, Rey started to clean the cuts as gently as she could. Her own nerves were killing her.

“Tell me if it hurts too much.”

He snorted with an evident cynicism. “It’s the least painful thing to happen to me today.” 

This wasn’t a comforting fact. Kylo extended an arm to grab the bottle and took a mouthful of vodka, and then another. 

“How did you know…” she asked after a few minutes, “that I was there?”

His body tensed again under her care, and she didn’t know if it was because of the question or the pain. Maybe both.

“I had some help,” he finally said.

From the tone of his voice, Rey instinctively understood pressing him on the subject was a no-go. She reflected on that in silence, cleaning up the blood while flashbacks of the train station, still fresh and vivid, played in her memory. Her fingers clutched the blood-stained fabric tighter. She paused and placed a hand over his shoulder, feeling the burn of his skin under her palm. Her body recognized it as a friendly echo, something she already knew.

“Thank you… for coming.” Her voice was above a murmur. Kylo turned his head to the side, not quite looking at her, but she could see his profile clearly—the tension in his eyes, the gravity of his features. He looked so much more familiar now that she remembered the taste of his lips.

“I’ll always come back for you,” he said without an ounce of hesitation. “No matter where you are, no matter how long it takes.”

Her heart ached deeply. “Is it… what this is?” Rey whispered, holding still. “Did you come back from… before?”

She heard the words without making any sense of them, but somehow, he would know what she was asking. He _ had _ to, right? Kylo took her wrist in his hand and slowly guided her to the side so he could look at her directly. Fixated on his lips, Rey waited. Her heart hammered in her chest, anxious and rebellious. _ He had to know _, she told herself.

His thumb trailed across the thin skin of her wrist and he could surely feel her pulse furiously beating under his touch. He stared at her with a profound expression, the coldness of his composure cracking along the edges, breaking the mask of darkness. Yes, there was a soul under the layers of steel—one Rey had known better than she knew herself.

“You’re the one who came back,” he said. “You came back from the last edge.”

Rey frowned, confused and disoriented. “What?”

With his free hand, Kylo reached for the gold necklace dangling around his neck. He yanked the chain free with one pull and let the small pendant fall into her palm. She took a curious look at it, admiring the fine craftwork. The lines felt familiar in her hand, like a feverish walk through the past—one about to unlock a bigger mystery. She turned it around, reading the initials engraved into the piece of jewelry. _ K.R. _

“What is this?” she asked. “K.R.— _ Kylo Ren _?”

“No. Kira Rigel,” he told her. “It's yours. It was yours long before you gave it to me.” 

“Long—_ before _?” Her brain was starting to panic.

“You haven’t always been here in this life, and neither have I. You said you know me, because you do—you _ did _. You’ve known me for millennia. Since we met on the Other Side, since the dawn of time.”

He suddenly sounded desperate, pleading, and Rey remembered that night at the _ Rocking Horse _. The same desperation in his words. Only her reading of it had changed. 

“I don’t know what you remember, but… you remember some of it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she choked out. “I—do.”

She _ did _. It was crazy, unbelievable, against all of her rational principles, but she fucking did.

“It’s coming back to me in a blur,” Rey explained without catching her breath. “I hear your voice, and I see your face—it’s all over my mind. So many things we did and said. And I thought it was impossible, but you’re here, and I might’ve lost my mind already. I dreamed of you, I dreamed of us. I can feel you, since you’ve touched me, that’s all I’ve been able to feel and think about. And I just… don’t know what to do.”

Rey forced air into her lungs, her mind still spinning. She looked at him questioningly, unsettled by her own admission. She needed him to have the answers—all of them.

“She was me,” Rey whispered. “You fell in love with Kira. And I was in love with you.”

“Yes.”

“So why did we get separated?” 

“Because light and darkness cannot touch without merging,” Kylo said in a low voice. “And it was forbidden. So many things I didn’t know then… I wanted to fight it, I wanted to create a new order for you and me, but I lost that battle. I failed you.”

“You were expelled,” she recalled, tracing the long scar on his face. 

“I was forbidden to enter the Other Side again, and I had to walk the earth alone. I waited for a chance to redeem my soul with your kin. I thought if I did enough good, then I could see you again.”

“Did you not—do enough good?”

“They were never going to pardon me, Kira. _ Never _. It wasn’t the plan.” A spark of anger appeared in his eyes again, but quickly died down. He frowned. “And even if they had, it wouldn’t have made a difference, I know that now. It was a rigged game, from the very beginning. From the moment I met you—”

Kylo looked down in defeat and shook his head.

“It doesn’t even matter. I did all the things that I’ve done just because I thought it could lead me back to you, but you chose differently.”

“What does that mean?” she gasped.

“Immortals don’t die,” Kylo told her. “Even now, here, I cannot die—not really. My body may be destroyed, but my soul comes back over and over again. I’ve lived so many lives already, always reborn in the same flesh. And I will never die. But you did.”

Rey grabbed his hand firmly, needing to hold onto something for support. She was feeling nauseous and overheated as her mind tried to square the impossible with her rational boundaries. It was a lost cause, but she had no other alternative.

“You chose to,” he said. “And when an Immortal curses themselves into death, they lose their immortality. It’s what we call _ Stella Mortis _, the—”

“—Death Star,” she finished with him.

Surprise moved his eyebrows higher. “Yes. The last edge, the final death.”

“But I’m… not dead.”

“And you’re not Kira anymore,” he concluded. “This is the only life you will ever get. This is the _ last _time that I get to be with you.” 

The excruciating pain in his voice was deeper than any of her own, piercing straight to her heart. With trembling hands, Rey reached behind his neck. She fastened the golden chain around it again and let the small pendant fall back onto his chest, placing a hand over it. She reflected intently on the words she was about to say, more afraid than ever before, but unable to find a single part of her that was willing to stop.

“Then be with me.”

✚

“Your eyes are green.”

Rey was pretty sure he was mistaken. They were brown, always had been. But after everything impossible she had witnessed in the span of those three days, what did she know anymore? Maybe he was right. Maybe she had green eyes, maybe her name was not Rey. And maybe she did love a complete stranger more than she had loved anyone else in her life. She didn’t want to know anything else, and if it was impossible, then so be it.

The bed was just a pile of wood planks on the ground in the far corner of a huge loft area. The black wrinkled sheets matched the rest of his clothes on the floor. Dusty books written in languages she didn’t know (she had checked, of course) were piled up beside the hard mattress. A glass jar stood next to it, filled with red crystals, leaving Rey to wonder what purpose they served. 

Daylight was fading outside. The cold, gloomy atmosphere kept crawling further inside the place, but her skin was burning hot. 

Rey pushed the dark hair out of his face, straddling him as he sat on his heels. Her t-shirt fell on top of the growing pile of clothing on the floor, along with her sanity. But as she kissed him, licking and tasting his lips breathlessly, she only remembered the promises of her dream, and she couldn’t have enough of him. 

Her body knew things her mind had forgotten. _ More, more of you. _

She moaned under his touch, powerless, bewitched. She grabbed his shoulders, careful not to touch his injured back, and threw her head to the side when he kissed the soft skin of her neck. She closed her eyes—green, brown—just to focus on the warmth of his body pressed against hers. He smelled like a dangerous, powerful man. He tasted like alcohol and smoke. Rey had fiercely avoided men like him all of her life. 

_ Unsafe _, her brain said.

But maybe something in her had never completely forgotten and had been trying to shield her from the memories. Maybe she had just been trying to avoid _ him _ —his reminiscence, his echoes. Now she knew again how it felt to be in his arms, to be held like that—by someone _ not quite _ human.

It wasn’t going to be gentle, but she wasn’t scared of him. Not anymore. 

She moved on his hips, rocking herself against him while breathing harshly. The amount of tension pooling in her was going to drive her crazy. He was rock-hard under her. The only thing still separating his dick from her throbbing core was the last piece of her underwear. Damn, she wanted him inside. To take what she hadn’t been able to take in her sleep. This was better—this was _ everything _.

He moved from her neck, leaving a vivid mark on her red skin—she was sure of it.

Rey curled her fingers into his hair again and he shifted to her breasts, sending a deep wave of pleasure down her spine. His hands were big, as big as she _ remembered _ —did she? Everything about him was big. His body, his passion, his power. He bled power from every pore of his skin. She was bathed in his world, trapped between the lines of _ good _ and _ evil _ and _ should you fuck a complete stranger just because he made you wet with his voice. _

She loved his voice the most. The way he growled her name, unrestrained, wrecked, when she wrapped her hands around him, asking for more. It felt too good not to take it.

“Please,” she choked out. “Please, I need—”

Rey needed a lot of things. A new sense of boundaries, a new set of rules, a trip to the nearest church to confess all of her sins. But right now, what she needed most was something to release the heat building between her legs.

“I know what you need,” Kylo whispered to her. 

He spoke with such a caring and gentle voice, so dissimilar from the intensity of his physical presence, that her whole being shivered in his arms. They had done this a million times, a whole eternity—yet it was the first time of her last life. Her heart was hammering painfully under her ribcage, seeking every bit of him. 

_ This is the last of me. And it is with you. _

His hand slid between them, finding the hem of the fabric, pushing past it. His fingers parted her folds and she gasped with satisfaction, feeling his rough fingertips rubbing her, stroking her like she would have done herself. He knew her body better than she could explain. He reached lower and slid a finger inside of her, finding her wet and impatient.

Rey nipped at his neck with her teeth, kissed a trail along his jaw, his ear. Her thighs shook over his, a slight burning sensation running along her stretched muscles as she had to accommodate so much of him between her legs. It left her open, and he pushed another finger inside of her. The lace of her underwear dug into her skin, low on her hips. She wanted to take them off, but didn’t want to move, to lose his touch. 

It felt too good to stop. He crooked his fingers, finding the right spot, the right pressure, without Rey having to speak a single word. She could barely keep herself from rocking on his hand, she wanted this so _ damn _much. 

Her breathing was shallow, her lips swollen. She kissed him again, she wanted to feel him breathe into her. She wanted his taste to linger on her tongue, and she would probably go down on him a million times before the night was over. But right now, she just needed to get that blissful wave of pleasure breaking over her. There wasn’t a single part of her that wasn’t consumed by him.

A strong arm circled her at the waist, pulling her closer—ever closer. 

She forgot where she was for a moment, and what she was doing. Her forehead rested against his, with his hot breath over her face, and her whole body tensed. Finally—she was able to reach the last edge. A silent cry parted her lips and she fell on her back, taking him with her. She mourned the loss of his fingers inside of her, still aching with pleasure. 

Quick hands removed the last of their underwear and Rey opened her legs again to let him find his place over her. The weight of his body against her was the most secure she had ever felt in her life—in all of her lives.

She wasn’t sure anymore if she was living in this moment or in another one. Sensations and memories blurred into the same endless stream of consciousness. She had been there so long ago, just a moment ago. It didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter that she knew nothing of a stranger she had met on the parvis of a church, because she knew more about Kylo Ren than anyone could. It didn’t matter that she was letting this man invade her body without a word of warning, because he would never hurt her.

“Kira—” he moaned against her lips. 

And though she knew she wasn’t Kira anymore, the part of her that loved him _ so much _ was still claiming her name. 

Rey shut her eyes and crossed her arms around his neck, arching her body when he pushed his dick inside of her. Fucking _ finally _. The stretch of it burned like the most wonderful thing she had ever had, and her walls contracted again. She raised her leg higher over his hip, he placed his arm under and—

“Fuck, Kylo—” 

He shook at the mention of his name, thrusting into her with a demanding pace. He was so warm, his face buried in the small space between her shoulder and neck. She could hear his deep, dark voice coming undone in her ear. It felt good, so good, to be back somewhere she really belonged. The desire flooding her whole body saturated her every thought. She pushed down, up, down, finding a new rhythm with him—harmony, balance, love, lust, fate. He held her down, his fingers digging into her waist, taking pleasure from her, with her. He growled and bit her neck, his skin covered by a thin layer of sweat. Her gasp turned into a loud moan and he thrust into her even harder.

Rey almost expected to find herself in another place if she had opened her eyes, cradled between two worlds. _ Because light and darkness cannot touch without merging. _

Their souls may have been intertwined long ago, fractured by love and rearranged with their opposite, each one of them carrying a part of the other everywhere they went. She had always felt so alone, even when she was in the middle of a crowded place. She had always felt left out, had always known she wasn’t made for anyone. _ Just for him. _

“Just for you,” Rey said out loud with a strained voice. 

He came inside her with a loud grunt, like a wounded animal, a warm flush pooling between her legs. For just a moment, Rey wondered what would have happened if she got pregnant—could a demon impregnate her? It didn't sound so bad in her mind, to the point that her body contracted around him on its own and she let out a soft cry of satisfaction to match his own.

“Stay with me,” he whispered against her lips. “I'll protect you. Always.”

It sounded like a vow. 

If they could stay in each other’s arms until the end of the world, maybe she wouldn’t mind seeing it burn. She didn’t care what would come after, if anything did. 

One life was enough for her if she got to live it by his side.


	7. The Hanged Man

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

> The Hanged Man (XII)
> 
> Great personal sacrifice that still doesn't hurt much.
> 
> Archetype:  Martyr (sacrifice).

Kylo watched her sleep for hours, the weight of her body secure in his arms, until a new dawn started to break. He ran his fingers through her brown hair, behind her neck, down her back. She pressed herself closer, relaxed, warm. The remnants of her makeup had left black smudges at the corners of her eyes, matching the dark shirt she wore—one of his. It was too big for her small frame and wrinkled around her wrists.

She looked peaceful in her sleep, something he envied in her. She looked as beautiful as always.

Kylo kissed the side of her face carefully. She didn’t react and he kissed the corner of her mouth, drunk off her scent. He rested his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes again, listening to the deep sound of her breathing. How long had he begged for that exact moment? How long had he waited to hold her again?  _ Peace, at last _ .

Was it the end of the story then? 

Rey would grow old and die eventually, like humans inevitably did. He already knew he wouldn’t keep going without her. Kylo was contemplating the dawn of his own death, his final one. Compared to a demon’s lifespan, that end would come in the blink of an eye. But he had no regrets left. Each second he spent at her side was better than an infinite night of ice and torment. Death could come, and he would be ready—but only when the final grains of sand passed through the hourglass. Today was not that day. 

Today wasn’t the day someone would pry her from his arms.

When the door shattered, blown apart by a sudden explosion, Kylo already knew who was about to enter: demons couldn’t cross the dark runes guarding his entrance. But humans could. The glowing halo of blue light illuminating his place was an unnecessary confirmation. War was coming for him, unleashing Jedi Knights to hunt him down— _ again _ .

He had his lightsaber in hand before they could stop him.

The crimson blade violently collided with his enemies’ weapons. Chaos crashed over the scene. Kylo pushed the first man back just to give himself some room to move. He felt Rey recoiling behind him while he stood his ground to keep her from harm. But they weren’t here for her, only for him.

Dressed in a brown cape and leather armor, another Knight tried to break his guard to the left. Kylo was forced to cross his dominant arm over his chest to deflect the attack. The singe of the blue lightsaber grazed his naked skin with a superficial burn, right above the waistband of his sweatpants. He didn’t have a chance to think about it and dodged downward with a grunt of rage. Another blade almost severed his right hand, but Kylo managed to stop it on his crossguard.

With a powerful kick, he destabilized a nearby attacker and slit his throat with his next movement, leaving him to fall dead to the ground. 

_ There, unforgivable sins. Jedi Killer. You made me that monster, the product of what you forced on me. So let me be the horror. You gave me war and I’ll give you Darkness.  _

“Take him  _ down _ !” ordered a powerful voice.

Once, Kylo would have fought until they had no other choice but to kill him, and he would not have cared. But today, it meant he would have to leave Rey behind, and he couldn’t afford it anymore. The chilling thought plagued his mind like a parasite. He suddenly remembered what it felt like to be full of fears, and it made him vulnerable.

Kylo tensed with his next blow, harshly breathing from the exertion. Two Knights stepped within his reach, wielding lightsabers in a show of intimidation.

“ _ Kylo _ !” 

Her scream pierced right through his heart. He took a massive hit from the left. He should have been glad they had thrown one of his bar stools at him and not a lightsaber. The exorcist fell to his knees before trying to get back up with a furious growl. The place was quickly being ravaged by the heat of the battle—furniture shattered everywhere, along with broken glass and burnt fabric.

Kylo landed a blow on the man standing in front of him. The red blade plunged into the man's chest without resistance, angled from below. He barely paused to watch the life drain from the victim’s eyes. They all had the same expression.  _ Just another soul wasted on this masquerade of a faith. How many more? _

“Get your  _ fucking  _ hands off me!” Rey cried out, enraged.

“Drop your weapon, monster!” 

Kylo froze instantly. He turned around to meet the owner of that voice. 

The turmoil of his soul was almost deafening but his focus didn’t miss a single bit of the scene. Kylo’s grip tightened around the hilt of the lightsaber, fueled by violence. Right in the middle of his own living room, Skywalker had the  _ fucking  _ nerve to give him orders. He would have given anything to kill that snarky bastard on the spot. Fury blacked out his mind for what felt like hours.

The old man had sneaked up on Rey and managed to slide a blade under her throat, taking her hostage in the madness. 

“It’s over for you,” he told Kylo. “If you want the girl to live, surrender.”

The choice was easy enough—because it was no choice at all. Kylo gritted his teeth and lowered his hand. “Why now?” he asked. “Who’s gonna cover for your incompetence when you kill me— _ again _ ?”

Skywalker rewarded him with a cold stare. Rey was trying to stay still despite her distress, her hands digging into the man’s forearm.

“Make no mistake, this time you shall not rise again. Enough of your sins!”

Kylo snorted, still feeling the burning touch of the kyber crystal traveling through his veins and settling right along his revulsion and animosity. 

“ _ My  _ sins? What about yours, Priest?” The title was an insult in his mouth.

“You killed those innocents yesterday!” the man sneered, almost spitting at him. “You slaughtered all of them, and what for?”

Confronted with the Grand Master's accusation, Kylo gained a better understanding of the situation, though it wasn’t any help. Skywalker wouldn’t believe anything he had to say, no matter what the truth was. The wound ran too deep below the surface. Each side was guilty of their own crimes. Kylo may have been a murderer, but the Church of Jediism was no seeker of truth—never had been.  _ The blindfold of their faith _ , he recalled.

“I knew this would happen,” the old man growled. “You only bring hatred and bloodshed! You’re corrupted and poisoned! Liar, traitor,  _ snake _ ! We should never have trusted a demon. And now you must be stopped!”

Kylo narrowed his eyes, a low growl rising from his chest. 

He could have killed them long ago—he  _ should  _ have. Those fanatics weren’t doing any more good than he was in this world. He should have killed the Jedis, all of them, burnt their lore down to the ground, reveled in the ashes of their remains. Freed mankind at last. That would have done some good. 

Kylo should have been what he always was—Son of Darkness, Master of the Knights of Ren, the enemy of forged light and holy worship. Because he couldn’t escape any of it.

“Is that  _ so _ ?” he spat angrily. “Oh, but you were more than happy to let me do the dirty work for you all of those years. I saved all of your fucking lives more times than they're worth! And don’t fool yourself—I may be a monster but so are you. How many people have you hunted down, exorcised for imaginary crimes, burnt alive—women, children! Fucking  _ children _ ! I was  _ there _ , and I watched you! You can pretend that you don’t remember, that it wasn’t you, but I’m older than any of your wars, and I watched while you decided who lived and who died—who was mighty and who was not. Let me tell you,  _ Priest _ , I’m the only sanctioned authority from the Other Side!” 

“Enough!” Skywalker screamed like a mad man. “Blasphemy! May the Force strike you down!” 

“ _ Fuck _ the Force!” Kylo roared furiously, pointing his lightsaber at the man again. “Fuck all of you! You have as much blood on your hands as I do, but the only liar here is you!” 

“You want to talk about  _ blood _ ? Then look at her! Look! I won’t tell you again. Drop your weapon and surrender! Justice awaits you.”

Kylo nearly laughed. Would the priest be capable of killing Rey in cold blood? Probably. But what  _ then _ ? It was a dead-end for both of them. Nevertheless, Kylo couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t willing to put her life in the balance, no matter the cost—even if he had to die to see her live.

Rey searched his eyes in silence, hot tears running down her cheeks. Her lips quivered, but she didn’t plead for him to comply. She only looked at him with longing and fear, and he couldn’t be sure of her thoughts. But he was sure of his own. 

Kylo let his weapon fall to the ground. The black metal hit the floor with a ringing tone and he spread his arms in submission, his face as defiant as ever.

“There,” he scoffed. “Have your powerless victory, old man.”

✚

_ Liars _ . He should have known.

They stood at the center of an underground nave, below the actual church, lit by rows of candlelight on the stone walls. Heavy chains dug into Kylo’s wrists. He watched, helpless, as Rey was dragged by two men in white attire to an altar. Hatred made him spasm on his knees.

“I’m going to kill you,” he growled, his voice hoarse. “All of you. You’re all fucking dead.” 

“Quiet!” Skywalker snapped.

The priest finally emerged from among the silhouettes silently standing watch around them. Shadows obscured half his face under the hood of his cloak, but his eyes were filled with a sickening omen—righteousness and virtue. Kylo had seen that look way too many times. All men were the same.

Kylo tried to break free once more, panting like a feral animal trapped in a cage. His blood ran cold under his skin. Every second became more excruciating, beaten dry by his own helplessness. Whatever they intended to do to Rey, he couldn’t let it happen.

“You’re going to watch while we wash your sins from this young soul.”

“The _ fuck _ you—”

“She was there, just yesterday!” Skywalker cut him off. “Do you really think we did not know? And look at her now, weeping for you! Corrupted by your lies.” 

“You’re all fucking  _ insane _ !” Rey screamed. “Let me go!” 

“Don’t worry, no harm will come to you,” another man told her.

Kylo shot him a murderous look, recognizing him all too well. With the help of his degenerate friends, Hux forced the young woman to kneel down.

“We’re going to bring you back to the Light.”

“You’re not bringing me anywhere, asshole! Get your stupid hands off me!” 

Ignoring her attempts to break free from their grip, Skywalker approached her and placed both hands over her head. A cold sweat ran down Kylo’s spine as he finally realized what was about to happen.

“NO!” he yelled in a fury. “You cannot exorcize her! She’s not fucking possessed!” A kick between his shoulders shoved him face down to the ground, but he quickly sat back up, spitting out blood. “Listen to me, stupid fucks! You don’t know what you’re doing, none of you! You’re not exorcists!”

As desperation started to overwhelm him, Kylo struggled with the rusty shackles even harder. He looked around and was confronted with a sea of brown hooded figures. He grabbed the chains in his hands, straining his muscles, trying to yank them from the anchor point on the stone. It was of no use.

“You’re going to open doorways for  _ them _ !” Anger blurred Kylo’s vision. Skywalker wasn’t going to listen to anything he had to say. 

“ _ Accipe lampadem ardentem, _ ” the Grand Master started to recite, followed by the rest of his minions, “ _ et irreprehensibilis custodi Baptismum tuum: serva Fortitudi mandata, ut, cum Dominus venerit ad nuptias, possis occurrere ei una cum omnibus Sanctis in aula caelesti, et vivas in saecula saeculorum. _ ”

“Fucking  _ stop _ ! You’re calling them! You’re going to kill us all!” 

“Kylo!” Rey cried in terror, her eyes dilated in fear. “Make them stop! Make them  _ stop _ !” She let out a muffled sound of distress, repeatedly calling his name for help. Even oblivious, she could feel the Darkness closing around her like a snake, deep within herself.

“Kylo,  _ please _ !” 

“ _ Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Fortitudo _ ,” Skywalker said. 

As he continued, Rey suddenly fell silent. A terrible sign. The young woman leaned on her arms, eyes closed, and the color drained from her face.

“Stop it!” Kylo screamed. “Rey!” 

“ _ Ephpheta, quod est, Adaperire. _ ”

To his horror, she fell to the floor and started to convulse. Too assured of their righteous faith, those fucking charlatans took it as a confirmation of the problem they were only bringing upon themselves. Not one of them seemed to understand the gravity of their actions, but Kylo trembled with panic. How could he have let this happen? Paralyzed, he watched Rey as she cried and stirred on the ground in a state of altered consciousness. 

“ _ In odorem suavitatis _ —”

All of a sudden, a man separated from the ranks to stand next to Skywalker. The harsh flickering movement of the flames illuminated a glimpse of torment in Dameron’s face while the general attention shifted to his person.

“Step back,” his superior instructed. 

“Master, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“I said  _ step back _ ,” Skywalker insisted with an imperious voice. “Or have you forgotten which side you serve, too?” 

The younger priest lowered his head in shame, jaw clenched in reaction to the insult. Yet, the retreat was noticeably painful to him. He slowly walked backward, not letting Rey leave his sight while he did. When he stopped in the shadows beyond the halo of light, not far from Kylo, the exorcist grunted at him.

“Let me try to save your fucking ass!”

“Shut up,” Dameron muttered under his breath.

“No,  _ you  _ shut the fuck up and listen!” Kylo said with urgency. “You’re not as stupid as them, Dameron. You have  _ seen  _ it, you know! When they get to her, she will try to kill me. And if she does, it will break the veil.”

The man shot him an alarmed look. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“Balance! I’m talking about your goddamn  _ Balance _ ! This was the plan all along, since I met her—before she was human. I was expelled by  _ design _ , to meet her here, now, so she can fucking kill me and open a breach for the Knights!”

“What the fuck—”

Kylo furiously pulled on his chains.

“I don’t have time for you to catch up!” he said between short pants. “This was  _ His  _ plan! He made me, so I could die and grant him the kingdom of men in revenge for his fall! Now you can sit on your ass and think about it for the few minutes you have left, or you can let me try to save all of you assholes!” 

Dameron’s face was drained of all emotion, stunned. But he had seen too much—and had called on Kylo’s help way too many times to dismiss it entirely.

“How can I trust you?”

“Use your fucking brain!” Kylo roared. “I don’t give a shit about any of you, but I don’t want her to die! You can kill me yourself when it’s all over, but let me save her!” 

Time was suspended in the hands of the priest. Maybe Kylo hadn’t been half wrong about Father Dameron. 

The man reached under the heavy fabric of his long tunic, getting something out of the hem of his sleeve. The jet-black metallic weapon abruptly fell between Kylo’s knees with a distinctive sound. The next second, its owner closed his hands around the lightsaber hilt and the crimson blade flared up to break the oxidized chains. 

Kylo was on his feet in a heartbeat. Just not fast enough. 

A chilling gust of air blew through the nave and all of the candles simultaneously died out, leaving the room in darkness—save for Kylo’s red aura. It wasn’t of any use to him though. Rey arched her back off of the ground, her arms extended from her body. An invisible force violently knocked out anyone standing close to her.

Skywalker and all of his assistants were thrown across the room before they had the chance to scream. Bodies collided with the stone walls with sounds of death and broken bones. A few cries of pain were muffled by the unnatural swirling of the air. In the center of the storm, Kylo stood firmly on his feet, raising a hand to protect his eyes and cursing in every language he had ever known.

“Rey—” he barely choked out.

_ It cannot end like this. Not when I just got you back! Fuck the Church, fuck everything! _ Those fucking morons had invited demons to sit at their table, serving them a grand meal on a silver platter. And now, what could he do to save her? 

The very things that were revealed to him by the Jedi Holocron were about to conclude their journey—a doomed ending for the Darkness that dared to touch the Light. Now, he knew. All of his existence had been nothing but a mirage, an illusion of choice. Illusion of free will, illusion of love.

Kylo thought he had met Kira because it was their destiny, fate, good fortune—whatever people would call it. But it had all been a lie. He thought he fell in love with her because she was the only one, but what if that was also a lie? What if their love was just a product of circumstance? He didn’t know how deep the roots of the plan went. They had been used by the Serpent over and over again, brought together in a perfect balance of polar opposites, just so they could  _ destroy  _ it.

_ Darkness rises and Light to meet it. For when they merge, the stars stop shining and chaos is birthed anew from their Death. _

A meaningful warning. One he had overlooked carelessly. 

After all the misery and all the suffering, Kylo had only one certitude left: none of it mattered anymore. No matter why they had met or who they had been destined to be, no matter if he loved her by design or by fate—the only thing that really mattered was the love.

He loved her. So very deeply. 

And because of that, he couldn’t allow her to kill him and cast an endless night over this world. He had to try until the very end.

When he made a move to approach, Rey stood up with a sharp movement that was not quite natural.

Kylo felt sick to his stomach, contemplating all the signs and cues he always looked for in a soul when he had a job to do. But even blind, he would have been certain that Rey was not completely here anymore. She was hidden away, trapped. Kylo could smell the demonic presence from a mile away, leaving no doubt in his mind.

Her face was void of life and human emotions. She looked at him blankly, her eyes so dilated that they appeared completely black under the glare of the crimson blade. Her hair moved around her face freely, and she tilted her head to the side, almost as though she wanted to ask him a question. Kylo forced himself to take a breath.

“I know you can hear me. Don’t be afraid.”

Her lips parted over a cold smile and she laughed. “Afraid?” the young woman said, with a voice that couldn’t belong to her. “What are we afraid of?  _ You _ ?” 

“Yeah, me,” Kylo whispered with anger. 

He angled his lightsaber toward the floor with a steady hand. The shadows dancing on Rey’s face shifted around. A dark glow sparked in her eyes. He took another step towards her and raised a hand in front of him. He needed to get her restrained somehow, but he couldn’t risk harming her. Maybe if he could touch her, she would recognize him. 

“Long time no see,” she snarled at him, her head down. “ _ Master _ .”

The irony of her tone bit into his resilience sharply. 

Kylo never had to face  _ them  _ before, and for a moment, he wondered if he was up to the task. He silenced the anguish violently. If he couldn’t do it, no one could. He was the last one standing between the Knights of Ren and the realm of the living. If he were to fail, there would be no more sunrises for Rey, or for anyone else. 

Kylo frowned, all of his body entranced by the level of demonic energy creeping around the scene. The golden pendant on his chest burnt through his skin, as if it was aiming for his heart. Failure was not an option today. 

“That’s right,” the man finally spoke. “But I’m still here—and I’m still, indeed, your fucking  _ Master _ .”

His arrogance seemed to ignite something in the dark. The young woman growled— _ actually _ growled—like a wolf ready to shred him to pieces. Her small frame moved much quicker than he had anticipated. In a heartbeat, she had stepped outside of his range, almost jumping into the shadows. 

Through his peripheral vision, Kylo was able to spot her. He spun around, projecting his weapon in front of him just as he felt another blade flaring up.

A blue ray illuminated the darkness, coming down to meet the crimson blade violently. The two weapons collided with the force of a thunderbolt, the echoes ripping on the stone walls. Facing one another, Kylo and  _ not-quite _ -Rey bent forward, each trying to maintain balance and stand their ground. Kylo gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring, black hair dancing in front of him. His sight couldn’t seem to decide what to focus on, jumping from red to blue—fire and ice, blood and rain, earth and sea. 

He felt all the contradictions of his existence collapsing like a final judgment. All the good and the evil he had ever done was thrown off balance, nothing mattered anymore but this one last crusade. He  _ had  _ to do it, because no one else could.

Forcing himself into action, Kylo let out a labored cry and grabbed Rey’s wrist with his free hand. His balance was off and he had to compensate with all of his strength to maintain the assault. She tried to break free with a swing.

Both of them swirled around in the circular room, almost like dancers. Their blades slid higher with a deafening sound, and ethereal sparks flew through the air. Her face was contorted by violence and hatred, so distant from the heart of her soul. Kylo looked into her eyes, then immersed himself into the abyss that lay beyond. Her skin felt like melted lava under his palm, but he didn’t let go.

“ _ Unclean spirit _ ,” he screamed at her in Sumerian—a language much older than Latin. “ _ Come into the light, I command you! _ ”

Seconds turned into a whole eternity. His energy was drained away from him as if he was being bled dry. But he still didn’t let go.

“ _ I exorcise thee, every unclean spirit, in the name of the Force, and by the power of the Holy Balance, that thou depart from this creature of Light, Rey _ — _ which the Light hath designed to call unto Her holy temple, that it may be made the temple of the living life, and that the Holy Balance may dwell therein! Through the same Force, who shall come to judge the living and the dead, and the world by fire! _ ” 

Kylo’s voice raged with every word, filled with power and the knowledge of an eternal life. He had danced with death and demons beyond all the edges, and knew more than anyone else ever could.

He had gone through all the stages of exorcism hundreds of thousands of times. He knew everything there was to know about it, and even against the assault of Primordial Demons, he didn’t recoil. He didn’t let go.

“ _ Be opened! _ ” 

The Voices were all around him, penetrating his skull like spears, as he fought to stay anchored to Rey and counter the menace of the Jedi lightsaber. 

Kylo grunted in pain, sweat pouring from his temples. His throat was dry and achy. His eyes stung with tears as he watched Rey fighting against his words, trying to reject his power, trying to get to him, to kill him—to fracture the world and annihilate all trace of life.

He didn’t let go.

“_And to you, demons,_” he yelled furiously. “_Begone! For the last judgment is at hand!”_

Kylo was drawn inward into her, falling into the Clash, the heart of a two-way channel. Light versus Darkness. Good versus Evil. 

Demons were locked into her core; they had made a home in her soul, corrupting her essence. They clawed and fought and tried to oppose the exorcist, unwilling to give way. But Kylo pressed further, feeling his own core cracking under the pressure.

_ “Receive this burning light, and keep thy Balance so as to be without blame: keep the commandments of the Force, that when the Light shall come to the nuptials, you may meet Her together with all the Spirits in the heavenly court, and may have eternal life and live for ever and ever.”  _

He brutally broke the fight position, tearing the lightsaber from her grip with a powerful blow of his own. The weapon flew across the room and hit the floor. Rey gripped his forearm and sent her knee right into his stomach, making him double over. She wrapped her free hand around his neck and choked him without mercy. As his lungs desperately burned for air, Kylo had no other choice but to abandon his weapon to seize her arm.

With agonizing effort, he threw her off balance and caught both her wrists, inhaling a gulp of blood-tainted air.

_ “By the power of my name, and blood of my Father,”  _ Kylo screamed with an authoritative voice. _ “I command you to release this creature of Light, and now desist! Desist!  _ Desist _ !” _

Expulsion should have ended with a blast. 

He didn’t know what he expected. But certainly not that.

Rey stood perfectly still in front of him, and for a moment he couldn’t tell if anything had changed. The exorcist waited in fear, panting, trembling, catching his breath.

Finally, the young woman raised her head and he plunged into her gaze once more—dying for a hopeful outcome. 

“The  _ mighty  _ Kylo Ren,” called a snarky voice, under layers of cursed souls. “This is where all hope dies, Exorcist.” 

The dreadful realization chilled him to the bone.

He had failed her,  _ again _ . 

Nothing would work. Their grip on Rey was  _ too  _ strong, even for him. And now, there was no hope left.

When she tried to throw an arm around his neck, Kylo dodged the attack instinctively. He didn’t know what he was fighting for, but he still did so nonetheless. They both lost balance and fell to the ground, furiously trying to gain dominance over one another. Kylo heard himself  _ wailing  _ like a wounded animal, desperate, powerless.

They wrestled on the cold stone floor, bruising skin, splitting nails. Frustration and utter madness fueled him with enough strength to block her body between his legs, barely holding her down with a powerful arm. She tried to break free, with more force than should have been possible. Kylo let out a cry of exhaustion, rolling around, struggling to get her under control until he could come up with a plan, something— _ fucking anything _ !

“ _ Ren _ !” 

Across the room, Dameron crawled on the ground as much as he could manage and threw a knife at him. The silver blade fell on the floor with a ringing tone, not far from his reach. An idea sunk into his heart, devastating him. 

Immediately, Rey’s attention returned to him with an uncontrollable shiver. Her hands tugged at the fabric of his shirt, terror spreading all over her.

“No, no, please!” she cried out in panic. “Kylo,  _ please _ ! Don’t kill me! I don’t want to die!” 

For all he knew this wasn’t Rey speaking. The ruse wrecked him to the core, tearing his heart apart with excruciating pain. He would have given  _ anything  _ to hold her close, to tell her everything would be alright, that she didn’t need to be scared, not of him, never of him. He would have liked to kiss her one last time. 

But this wasn’t Rey, and his reason was stronger than his heart. His fingers came in contact with the cold, sharp metal of the knife.

“I love you,” he said. “Beyond the last edge.”

Before she could stop him, Kylo pushed her down and violently plunged the blade into his own chest with a single thrust. He gasped in pain, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth, staining his pale skin.  _ There, go and try to kill me now, bastards. Bet you didn’t see that one coming!  _

His fingers slowly loosened from the blade and his hand fell back to the ground. He lay on his back, staring at the dark ceiling as the life drained from him with each breath. This was finally the end, and it would be the last one.  _ Stella Mortis _ . But at least he knew Rey would be safe if he was removed from the equation. The Knights would have no way to cross into this realm and would lose all interest in her. They were too greedy to play with a simple human, even reincarnated. Dameron could do the rest then. 

A smug smile stretched across his lips. He closed his eyes. 

A familiar weight fell on him and it felt like peace. Kylo was really having one of those shitty days. But dying in the arms of the woman he loved was the most peaceful of all of his deaths. He was glad, even for her tears. That second of eternity with her was worth it all.

Now he could be free from both sides. 

_ And fuck the Force. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to say in my defense: I tagged a HEA so remember that before cursing me too bad! ;)


	8. Wheel of Fortune

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

> Wheel of Fortune (X)
> 
> _ An uncertain outcome, with an aftermath to be carefully considered. _
> 
> _ Archetype: _ _ Chance (the unpredictable). _

Rey closed her fingers around the golden pendant hanging on her chest. She looked up at the sky—the hot blue morphing into a purplish tone as the day drew to an end over Chicago. The last rays of sun touched her skin with a warm caress, comforting her. She let her hand fall back and brush the fabric of her black blouse to smooth out any wrinkles. 

Nervousness pooled in her stomach while she waited outside the old brick building. She checked her phone once again, but she was well ahead of time. All she had to do was to wait. Rey looked up at the sky again and closed her eyes, focusing on her thoughts.

Sometimes, she could almost feel… _something._

Eventually, a familiar set of footsteps resonated on the sidewalk and Rey opened her eyes again, greeting the newcomer. The man stopped next to her, wearing a long-sleeved black shirt buttoned all the way up, despite the heatwave currently hitting the city. He had a brown satchel tucked under his right arm and smiled at her with a friendly expression.

“How are you?” Dameron asked.

“Fine. Nervous—I guess.”

The man put a hand on her shoulder, offering her a gesture of comfort as he often did.

“Do not doubt yourself, Rey. You’ll do just fine, and I’m here to help.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, half-heartedly. “It’s just... I hate when it’s children.”

“We all do.”

She nodded pensively.

“But the reward is twice as satisfying, isn’t it?” the priest asked her.

“I guess so.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Father.”

Dameron winced a little at the designation. A lot of things had changed during the past year, some more noticeable than others. “You know there’s no need to call me that anymore. Should I remind you I’ve been excommunicated by the Church?”

“What should I call you then?” Rey laughed with a lighter tone. “Master?”

“Doesn’t feel very appropriate,” Dameron agreed.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s stick to Father. You’re still a priest after all, no matter what some shitheads have to say about it.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“I think it _does,_” Rey insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. “This isn’t subject to human authority, may I remind you, _ Father _.”

The man finally loosened up, amused by her stubbornness.

The title might have rubbed some salt into his wounds, and maybe she should’ve just dropped it altogether, but it held an important meaning to Rey. It was an act of resistance—against the people that had tried to hurt her, against the people that had cost her the love of her life, against Jediism altogether. And Rey wasn’t about to quit that fight, ever.

“You could also just call me Poe,” the man offered. 

She studied him in silence. People were passing by on the sidewalk, unaware of the reason behind their presence in the neighborhood. If they had known—well, maybe they could _ feel _something, because they all unconsciously chose to walk as far away as possible from the entrance of building C. It was interesting enough to note, and she thought the battle wouldn’t be easy today.

“Maybe I will,” Rey said after a while. “For special occasions.”

“Special occasions?” he asked her, his hands fidgeting nervously as they always did when he wasn’t holding a cigarette.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll call you Poe when we’re done with the hundredth one.”

“That’s—a lot of exorcisms to do.”

“There are a lot of demon asses to kick.”

“Yes, indeed,” Dameron smirked, taking a look at the end of the busy street. “You’ll be way better than me by then. Maybe you’ll take an apprentice too.”

“Maybe,” Rey said, considering. “We could use some more help, don’t you think?”

He turned to her again, and she noticed the silver hairs starting to peek into his black curls under the last rays of sunset. This job probably didn’t help him to age peacefully, but the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes at least attested that he was still alive. Others didn’t have that chance. 

Rey would have loved for a different exorcist to grow old alongside her. She would have loved to learn from him and to hold his hand through all of her battles. But while she couldn’t do that anymore, Rey had filled the burning hole left in her chest with another fire, and she knew he would have been proud of her. 

Or so she hoped.

“It will come in time,” Dameron said, getting her out of her head. “But I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes I made when I was a servant of the Church. I need to focus on the right motivations.”

Remorse and guilt still hadn’t left the man in peace.

“You already did that when you walked away,” she assured him. “If I was a believer, I’d say this was your true calling all along.”

“What do you mean—_ if _ you were a believer?”

“Well, faith and knowledge are really two different things... I know the Force exists, but I’m not sure I want to _ believe _ in it. I prefer to have faith solely in myself, if you don’t mind. Does that make me a fool?”

The priest shook his head and ran a hand over his short beard, looking at her with a dark gaze filled with praise. “I think you’ll make a great teacher someday with that—create a new generation of exorcists. Ones that are not tied up by faith but rather powered by knowledge of religion, like scientists of the Darkness.”

“That would make a killer name,” Rey joked pleasantly. “Let’s create a new order, shall we?”

“After you, Exorcist Adhara.” Dameron pointed an arm in the direction of building C, inviting her to lead the way to their new assignment, and she knew that—no matter what, she would succeed once more. For she was never walking into the Darkness truly alone.

✚

The summer night was hot and filled with laughter.

Taking a step outside of the _ Rocking Horse,_ Rey hugged her friends and said her goodbyes before the three women parted ways. After Tallie and Rose had disappeared into the distance to catch the last train home, Rey looked up to the sky in silence.

The city lights were too bright for her to contemplate the infinite amount of stars hovering over her, but she could map some of them. Rey stayed unmoving in the middle of the sidewalk, goosebumps spreading to the skin of her arms after hours inside the crowded bar. It felt nice, like the light touch of a stranger’s hand. If she looked far enough into the black void of space, could she find that feeling again? Could she find that hand again? 

“It’s the last of the waxing moon tonight,” a feminine voice said near her.

Rey jolted in surprise, quickly focusing her attention on the woman she hadn’t heard approaching. She greeted Rey with a smile, her long blonde hair cascading way past her shoulders over an emerald green dress. She looked friendly enough for Rey to relax.

“The waxing moon?” she curiously asked. 

“The first quarter, before the full moon,” the stranger explained. When she moved her hand upwards, the stack of golden bracelets on her wrist rang with a soft note. “Good time for attraction magik and protection of the lovers.”

“I don’t have…” Rey began with a sad expression. “There’s no one to protect, not anymore.” The words were harder to articulate than she expected, especially to a complete stranger in the middle of the street. Why had she told that to this woman? 

“You could be surprised,” the blonde woman gently smiled.

Rey was about to say something else—not in the friendliest manner, but she shut her mouth when the stranger handed her a small silvery card. She reached for it instinctively. Looking at it closer under the streetlight, Rey was able to discern a few words written on the rectangle in pristine handwriting. 

_ Clark/Lake _

_ 9.23 _

“What’s that?”

“A train station on the Evanston Line—”

“No, I mean—I know where this is but, why are you giving me this? Is that a timestamp or a date?” 

“It’s the time you should be standing on the Howard platform. The date is tomorrow.”

“For _ what _?” she snorted.

“Maybe you’ll find what lies beyond the last edge.”

It felt like the air was knocked out of her lungs. For a minute, Rey was unable to articulate the slightest sound. She just stood there motionless, trying to decide if this crazy person was making fun of her somehow. But Rey was really in no position to talk about _ crazy _ things. And the solemn intensity in the woman’s eyes sunk into her heart with a cruel outburst of hope. It _ couldn’t _be—right? 

“Who are you?” she finally managed to ask, her voice unsteady.

“Let’s say… we have a tall friend in common,” the woman smiled again.

Rey was too shocked to react. 

Before she could stop her, the stranger walked right past her and turned at the next street corner, leaving Rey to wonder if she had hallucinated the entirety of the scene.

The card in her hand felt real enough. She lowered her gaze again and kept on reading the station name, as if she could have found a new meaning for it somehow. 

_ Maybe you’ll find what lies beyond the last edge. _

Her heart hammered in her chest, trying to lead her into very dangerous territory—for hope was the worst pain of all to a mourning soul. 

When she flipped the card around in her palm, Rey gasped, recognizing the evocative iconography displayed on the trump card. The sixth Major Arcana. The Lovers.

✚

She hadn’t slept at all, unable to shut down her brain long enough.

She kept on thinking about the blonde woman, obsessively. The tarot card was sitting on her nightstand and Rey couldn’t keep herself from looking back at it over and over again. At an excruciatingly slow pace, the night sky finally started to merge into a grayish color as the dawn approached. By the time Rey shut the light off, her brain was ready to collapse.

Unable to stand it anymore, she jumped out of bed and made her way to the dresser. She grabbed the first thing she could find—a red dress with white flowers on it. Her fingers shook so much that she had to pause and exhale steadily before she could manage to button it up.

In the small bathroom, Rey fixed her reflection as if it belonged to someone else—a delusional someone ready to have her heart shattered to dust once more. She knew it was a bad idea to indulge in this madness, but she couldn’t help it. If there was even a single chance… Rey would give anything to get him back. 

She bravely kept herself from crying the tears that were threatening to escape, threw her hair into a bun, and applied red lipstick to match the dress.

It was barely 6 am when she walked out the door.

✚

Rey stood on the train platform, direction Howard, for hours.

She scanned the crowd in silence, as the first-morning rush poured into the L, growing more and more anxious by the minute. She kept on checking the time on her phone way too often, the card digging into her other hand and a million questions in her mind. 

Clark/Lake was a busy station, with several levels. What if she wasn’t at the right spot? What if she missed… whatever she was supposed to find here? She should’ve asked for more details. She should have— 

Rey missed her next breath. The digital clock hanging above the direction panel had just jumped forward. _9:23._ Acute pain burst in her chest. She figured she was going to die from cardiac arrest before she could do anything else.

Just like that, the next train arrived at the station. Doors opened to discharge a new wave of rushing commuters. Rey looked at them in fear, overwhelmed by the anonymous faces and the fact she couldn’t possibly see _ all _of them. The strangers went past her with annoyed expressions as she stood in the middle of their path. She could not have cared less, concentrating on her own thoughts.

But despite all of her efforts, she couldn't find—

“_ Kylo _!”

She had screamed his name before her brain had the chance to acknowledge it. 

A hot pressure spread inside her chest. She opened her mouth to force some air down, her mind dizzy and uncooperative, ready to pass out from shock.

She could’ve persuaded herself it wasn't real, that she was mistaken. But there was no way to mistake Kylo Ren for anyone else, _ ever _. He was taller than most people around him, mid-length black hair that seemed to be made of silk, and a frown frozen on his distinctive face. 

He looked exactly the same as the last time she had seen him, save for the clothes. His usual black uniform had been replaced by a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He was walking in the opposite direction, following the flow of people to the station exit. Rey ran after him, terrified she would lose sight of him in the crowd and would never see him again. Her pulse throbbed in her ears and her throat felt too dry. She almost knocked someone over in her rush, but finally managed to get close enough to reach for him.

“Kylo!”

Her fingertips brushed his arm and he turned around, stopping in his tracks with a curious expression. He looked at her then, confusion easily readable in his dark gaze.

“No, I—do I know you?”

His deep voice hit her core, making her shiver as if she was suddenly much more alive, craving every bit of his soul. She barely stopped herself from hugging him, trying to register his words—while her body didn’t want to comply.

“You don’t… remember me?” Rey asked in a trance.

“Should I?” he snorted.

A new agony descended on her chest to crush her into pieces. Rey recoiled, all of her emotions set loose inside of her in a conflicting dance. She had learned for herself that time was anything but linear, and every version of it could merge at a crossroad, like train rails. They could meet here, now, and yet still stand in different directions, looking into different sets of memories.

Time meant nothing to them anymore, but sadness built up in her eyes as she stood in front of her only love like a complete stranger. Was it what he felt that night—when she hadn’t been able to remember his name? When she had to beg him to leave her alone? Rey could finally taste that same angst for herself, and it broke her burning heart.

Something Kylo was clearly able to notice, because his attitude shifted the very next moment.

“Wow, I’m sorry... was that rude?” he asked with slight discomfort. “This will sound weird probably, but I—hmm, just came back from the dead, sorta. Still adjusting.”

Rey was too astonished to express a response to that, so he continued.

“I had an accident—was in a coma for—well, a fucking long time... Still not quite sure about the whole human thing, politeness and all. Bet you never heard that excuse before.”

Kylo looked at her with a new kind of apprehension, as if he was waiting for her to decide if she wanted to walk away or not. Most of the passengers had left the platform by now, leaving them standing face to face in the middle of the empty train station.

“I sound like a creep, I know that much,” he groaned. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and offered her a bitter smile. A heavy one. 

Rey forced some moisture back onto her lips, her attention detailing every inch of his familiar face with an urgent need. When the realisation finally hit her, her eyes widened a little in surprise. She couldn’t place it at first, but if Kylo looked_ not quite _the same, it wasn’t just because of the clothes, but also because there was no scar on his face. The pale skin of his cheek was as uniform as her own, and she couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

But it was _ still _him—it had to be, didn’t it? 

Meanwhile, he was waiting for a reaction of some sort, looking at her uncomfortably.

“No, it’s fine. Really,” Rey finally said. “It takes a lot more to scare me off.”

His shoulders dropped a little as he seemed to relax. A smirk tugged the corner of his mouth upward. “Not afraid of weird shit, eh?”

Rey was slowly recovering her composure, tugging at the strap of her crossbody bag. “I do weird shit for a living,” she told him with more assurance. 

“That sounds... interesting, and hmm—a bit concerning also.”

“Says the man who just came back from the dead.”

“Fair enough.”

For a handful of seconds, the pair stared at each other in complete silence. Rey lost herself in his dark brown eyes for a while, feeling all of her memories being pulled out from under a blanket of dust and rearranged into her mind. She had known him for _ so long,_ just for them to meet once again _here,_ of all places, two strangers in a crowd, under the bright summer sky of Chicago. So mundane. There was no demon anymore, and none of them were ever going to see another lifetime after this last journey. It tasted like a bittersweet afterglow.

“You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

Rey laughed softly. “I’m not.”

“Alright, good, I think that was my personal line.”

He shifted on his feet and offered her his hand. Rey stared at him longer than politeness would have dictated before finally reaching for it with her own. His fingers gently curled around her small hand. Her heartbeat quickened at the touch of the warm skin and, once again, she had to painfully stop herself from throwing herself into his arms.

“I’m Ben,” he smiled.

_Ben._ She could work with that. Rey could meet Ben just like Kira had once met Kylo. A perfect loop in time. An echo of their endless story.

“Rey.”

Neither of them seemed willing to break contact, so they awkwardly stood there, holding each other’s hands with more intensity than was necessary for an introduction.

“Have we met like—before I was half-dead? Because you seem... very familiar.” The words set a new fire inside her heart ablaze.

“I think we did,” Rey smiled brightly. “A long time ago.”

_ Ben _smiled back at her, still holding her hand without question. And she secretly hoped he would never let go of it. 

“Is it bad to be a total opportunist,” he smirked with a playful gaze, “like—do you like coffee? I was about to get one and well, we could try to figure this shit out if you like weird stories.”

“I love weird stories,” Rey confirmed with a nod.

He seemed relieved. “Maybe I’ll remember where we’ve met before.”

“I’m sure you will,” she said, and the pressure on her hand felt increasingly protective.

As the next train approached the station, they stepped aside to avoid being engulfed in another stream of passengers. Ben kept her hand in his and put the other behind her back to lead her towards the exit stairs. While they walked next to each other—practically holding onto each other while pretending not to, because it was _ weird _to do so with a complete stranger—he gave her another insightful look.

“What?” she asked curiously.

Ben looked away, the hand on her back gently guiding her body closer to him while they stepped outside of Clark/Lake.

“Your eyes are green,” he said with a soft voice.

“Yes,” Rey smiled, her eyes tearing up under the sunlight. “Yes, they are.” 

“_ Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars. _”

— Dante Alighieri. (The Inferno, Canto XXXIV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT, I hope you loved that ending and you enjoyed this story, please leave me a comment if you did (even an emoji will make me happy) 🥰
> 
> I know it was on the shorter side of stories, but between writing and all the rounds of editing, it took me six months to finish this. So, a lot of work! Overall, it was a challenge for me to work on my English so intensively, but I had a great time experimenting with those themes (I'm a horror/spooky fan and I particularly love demonic and witchy vibes). It gave me a perfect excuse to re-watch all my favorite movies haha win-win. 
> 
> Happy Halloween/Samhain month, I hope you have great plans! 🎃
> 
> And please come and join me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/codeblackspace), I talk a lot about my writing and I love to discuss with my readers! xx
> 
> PS: if you ever want to, you can go and have a drink at the Rocking Horse, it's a real bar in Chicago ;) (Hot demon boyfriend might not be included with the beer.)


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